mostly david ephgrave

It's a measure of my constant overthinking that I'm worried I sounded too upbeat when on the phone to the funeral directors' today; from the tone and colour in my voice, he probably thinks I'm having the time of my life. "You haven't heard back from the vicar yet? Brilliant!" Like The Monkees, I was just trying to be friendly. I also happened to be on the bus, talking handsfree, so it was hard to judge how loud I needed to be to not sound weird. Having said that, however much I tried to not appear unhinged, I ended up pitching my replies like a T.I.E. performer speaking to a reception class; I may as well have been leading a conga line for all the enthusiasm I put into it. That's why any form of human interaction is to be strictly avoided, particularly if it's over the phone. It's also why I'll mentally prepare when I'm standing a cue waiting my turn; I'll mull over the various subtle variations on the theme that might come up...

The public's ignorance astounds me. I'm not referring to everyone, though there’s a worryingly sizeable contingent letting the side down for everybody else. I’ll give you an example. A few years ago, I was walking through town when a girl stopped me to ask for directions. She started by shouting “Oi” from the other side of the road, which didn’t exactly get me on side. “What’s up?” I replied, tetchily. “Where’s the station?” Politeness clearly wasn’t her strong point.  I was just relieved she’d asked me something I knew. I started confidently, unaware that I was about to fall at the first hurdle. “You head straight down this road until you get to the undertakers." She looked at me blankly. “What’s an undertaker?” I was so surprised by the question that I didn’t know how to respond. I’d never been asked to define a funeral director’s job before, least of all without notice. Did she know that people die...