Mortuary’s are an odd lot. They are at once discreet, yet unapologetic of function. Also, they are, without exception, named after their owner(s).
In High School, I dated a girl whose family owned a local mortuary. I don’t recall ever having actually stepped inside, though both she and her sister worked their from time to time. There may have been drop-offs and pick-ups from time to time, but I was never terribly interested in delving into the seedy underbelly of the mortuary business, and she was never terribly interested in showing me (oh how I would be more than giddy for the grand tour were it now instead of then). I did, however, get a little giddy thrill whenever I drove by and saw her last name in lights, as it were.
“Yep, that’s my girlfriend,” I’d think proudly, “Queen of the Dead.”
OK, so I added the “Queen of the Dead” part; but how droll that would have been if I’d been as witty then.
At any rate, mortuaries are always named for their owners, which has always struck me as odd… until today. That is to day, it still seems odd to me, but I understand it more. What kind of decorum, really, can you expect by having names such as these?:
.: Classy Cadavers
.: Big Zack’s Zippy Zombies
.: 1-Hour Mortuaring
What’s that? Is this elevator going down?