I halt just inside the door and wait for people to stop what they are doing to look at me. Only then do I proceed into the room. I spot an empty seat beside a babe and take it. When I sit, I cross my legs like they do in Paris and rest my hands on my knee. Visitors pore in through the same door I entered, shaking the rain of their coats, and leave through the exit to my right. Between each door they swap words with people sitting around the edge of the room, saying shit like “It’s a terrible tragedy” and “Oh, a crying shame.”
Smoke wafts in through the exit from outside where people have gathered to suck cigarettes. I glance to the woman next to me with a look as if to say “What assholes!” but she is too absorbed wiping her nose to notice.
Jimmy the Bull enters the room and I wave to him. Tear filled eyes stare at me like I’m ignorant. So I just ignore them.
"Hey Jimmy, over here… yeah… over here!"
Jimmy comes over and we hug in a manly fashion and clap each other’s backs. We begin to have a good conversation about the new body kit Bull got for his Fiesta when the Undertaker comes over and interrupts us.
"Excuse me", he says, "But the family have requested you leave." I am obviously taken aback. I remove my sunglasses to get a better look at this old man and decide that if it came to it, I could take him.
“Well, we were leaving anyway.” I say getting up. But before I bolt out the door, Bull not far behind, I give the coffin a good kick and it wobbles a bit on the stand.
Pushing past the smokers we make it out to Bulls wagon. Indeed, it was a noble machine. We hop in and lift away, Bulls 100 watt system pumping out Bomb funk MC’s greatest hits.