Death: it's a part of life, right?
What's this death thing like, anyway? Is it fun? Will you see Grandpa and all those other dead relatives? Perhaps it involves going down a long tunnel and seeing a bright light, like I've been led to believe by many episodes of Rescue 911.
Like this, but a lot trippier.
I suspected there was more to death than just the dying part. There were probably strings attached. So my latest assignment was to infiltrate the world of funeral shopping. It may sound depressing, but remember, the first three letters in "funeral" are F-U-N!
I find myself venturing to The Colma Funeral Shoppe in San Francisco. It caught my eye because I liked how "Shoppe" is spelled, like they were going for "cute." I guess their second choice for a name, "Caskets 'N Stuff," was already taken. Also, in the phone book, the ad mentioned "Simple Funerals," and this worked for me.
Should have opted for the "Simple Funeral."
Getting into the mood of the occasion, I'm wearing all black, dressed in my best goth outfit. I even have on a bit of white makeup for a subtle Gothic effect.
As it turns out, The Colma Funeral Shoppe is a small place next to a hair salon. A pleasant matronly woman named Jenny is sitting behind a desk surrounded by various caskets. She looks like everyone's nice aunt.
"I'm looking for a casket. An inexpensive one."
"Has the loved one already passed away?" Jenny asks, with the tact of a woman working in the funeral industry.
"Actually, it's for myself. I haven't been felling well lately," I say, holding my stomach.
Jenny gives me a look which could spoil butter, but doesn't press the matter further.
I continue. "Now, what would be your suggestion?"
Jenny starts with a model which goes for $795, with a white crepe interior and a gasket rubber seal, to keep the freshness locked in, I guess.
She describes it as "stunning!"
Sure, it's a fine casket, but I don't want to jump into anything before I know all my options.
Jenny next shows me a model for $695 with a metal crepe interior. She describes it as "a beauty!"
I agree, and tell Jenny I kind of like it. But she adds that it's more of a "feminine" model. Huh!? These things come in masculine and feminine? Are we dealing with caskets, or French nouns?
Well, I'm not about to be teased mercilessly in the afterworld, so I ask Jenny for the most inexpensive model, and she shows me THE PINE BOX. It's a "no frills" wooden box with rope handles, and goes for a bargain $175! I personally like it a lot, it's "retro." I let Jenny know.
The budget burial.
"Are you planning to be cremated?"
I tell her no.
"Then I suggest a closed casket ceremony."
That's not for me. I want open casket, because, like Bela Lugosi, I'll be wearing a vampire cape. I ask her why.
"Because there's nothing inside, but the body!"
I picture myself like an ill-sized boot in a shoebox. Or a small peanut inside a shell.
"It leaves people with not a good feeling. Also, it's rather haunting!" She mentions that if you don't embalm, it's even worse.
I notice next to THE PINE BOX a long cardboard container marked "Alternative Container" with a $25 price tag on it.
"Hey, what about this!?" It looks kind of fun. Like playing in a big refrigerator box for eternity.
"That's for cremation only!"
"Oh!" I look hurt.
Question: what do they ship these in?
My visit to the Funeral Shoppe was intriguing, but I didn't think I wanted to be put in a cardboard box for all eternity, like a lost Amazon package. I ventured on for more answers.
Next: Infiltrating the World of Cremation!
|
|
Store
2,232 
7 
205,285 
31