Sometimes I write letters to Ellen DeGeneres. No particular reason. Just because I can.
Today is April Fools’ day. And while a lot of people are out there punking their friends and family, the story I’m about to tell you is no joke.
Once upon a time, I used to be a death investigator. Many, many years ago, on this very date I received a phone call I’d been warned by my coworkers that I’d likely receive on April Fools’. Because, for whatever reason, punking morgue employees is something fun to do.
It was after seven p.m. when the phone rang and the conversation went something like this. Fair warning, I changed the names to protect the innocent.
Caller: Yes this Officer Yada Yada calling from Blank Police Department.
Me: Hi. How can I assist you this evening?
Caller: Yes, I was told to call and check on the status of an autopsy for Miss Myra Mains.
Me (eye roll): Seriously?
Me: Come on!
Caller: Is there a problem?
Me: Yes. In fact I have a refrigerator full of dead people who all have problems so I really don’t have time to play games.
Caller: Ma’am. My T.O. (I assume that means training officer) and a bunch of other guys are laughing at me. Could you please tell me what’s going on?
That’s when I knew I wasn’t the one being punked.
Me: You really don’t know?
Me: Okay. Myra Mains. Say it with me, My
Me: Remains. My. Remains.
Caller: You (bleep) (bleep)! (And a few other expletives that he cursed toward his coworkers.)
Click. Dial tone. The phone call was over.
Poor guy. Poor Myra. I hear she frequents a whole lot of morgues.
Happy April Fools’, Ellen!