Alleged theft takes place during funeral

It’s been said that tragedy brings out the best in people, but not necessarily the best people.

A few months ago I found myself in the receiving line at a funeral. Around 150 people came through the line, most with kind things to say about the deceased. About 10 people told me they enjoyed my column, which is always nice to hear.

Two people said they’d just listened to The Bryan Hanks Radio Show earlier in the day, and one person hated my guts and anything that had ever passed through them.

I don’t know this guy’s name, but if I had to guess I’d assume he would answer to “defendant” out of habit. I’m fully aware that I’m nothing to stare at, but this guy looked like something you’d have removed during an outpatient procedure. It was as if someone put him in a microwave, set it for five minutes but turned it off after only two.

As a gnat hovered around his face, his left ear reached around his face like a palm branch and swatted it away.

The guy still had his hair, but it was a color that doesn’t occur in nature – unless there’s a major chemical spill nearby. It was a combination of rusty air-conditioner runoff and sherbet ice cream. Like mine, his posture was a tad askew, but the amount of carbon monoxide passing through his cake hole seemed to help keep him balanced, much like the Snoopy balloon during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

As the walking boil made his way through the line, someone pointed out that he wouldn’t be quiet during the memorial service.

“He kept talking … even during the prayer,” a friend told me.

Our hero was accompanied by his wife, who seemed to be very nice. She shook my hand and I then reached out to shake The Boil’s hand. Just as I started shaking his hand, she leaned back and said, “By the way, I look forward to your articles on Bucklesberry.com.”

Before I could say thank you, the Boil suddenly realized who I was. His eyes bulged as if a Peterbilt was about to run him over.

“YOU! … you’re the guy from the paper!” he exclaimed in an exaggerated whisper/shout.

He snatched his hand back as if I had cooties, but the joke’s on him because I’ve been cootie free since ’93.

“That stuff you write in the paper … (points at ear and makes circular motion indicating that I’m crazy) … I don’t like them things,” he said. “Nuh-uh.”

“Sir, I don’t remember asking what you thought of my columns; right now I’m focused on the deceased in the coffin over there,” I said. “I don’t know if anyone told you, but this is a funeral.”

The man’s wife tried to get him to calm down but to no avail.

“He had me believin’ a drone landed at the Walmarts the other week; scared me to death,” he said.

“Sir, even if a drone had landed at the Walmarts, they wouldn’t have run out of adult diapers,” I reassured him. “They’re well stocked; you would’ve been okay.”

With that, the Boil slithered away, all the while looking over his shoulder at me while making the crazy sign by twirling his finger around his ear.

I saw the funeral director in the lobby, so I went over and pointed out The Boil to him.

“I don’t want to get into your business,” I said. “But I saw that guy take several rolls of toilet paper from your bathroom out to his car.”

When the line ended, the family gathered to head home. We were sad about the passing of our loved one, but we found solace in the fact that he lived so long and was now in a better place. Also, seeing The Boil repeatedly tell the responding officer he didn’t steal anything added an extra layer of poignancy to the evening.

On our way to the parking lot, we noticed The Boil had opened his trunk to show the officer he’d stolen nothing. I told the officer the only way to be sure was to conduct a cavity search, to which he agreed.

As I checked my rearview mirror, I could see the officer retrieve a pair of latex gloves from his cruiser. I wondered what treasures the cavity search would uncover. Whatever ended up being discovered, be it contraband, car keys, or a 9-volt battery, the removal of said item(s) would no doubt give The Boil a new lease on life.

Jon Dawson’s books are available at www.JonDawson.com.

To listen to live and archived broadcasts of The Bryan Hanks Show with Jon Dawson and Jonathan Massey, visit www.BryanHanks.com.