My friend growing up had a wonderful grandmother that we called "Nan". We would stay at her house, raid her fridge for snacks and play in the funky basement. I don't mean to sound insensitive but, the day came and she had passed. My whole family knew her and my mom is a good friend of her daughter, so obviously, we would travel down to Baltimore, MD to attend the sad event.
We went to the cemetary, which I really hate the most, it's the saddest part, the final goodbye.
My family and I went on our way back to the car, a brown chevy impala station wagon that we named the Family Truckster... like in Vacation.
So, like at any funeral we drove to the cemetary with the lights on, well, my father left the lights on during the ceremony. So what happens? The car battery is dead...in a cemetary, what a coincidence? My dad is the type of person who will not rush out of somewhere, like the last person who stays in the movie theater and let's the crowd leave.
So there we were, my Mom, Dad, Sister and I and the deceased in a cemetary!
We had living company though, the hearse and the driver. So, my dad got out of the car and said in his South Philly accent...."Hay-yo pal, can ya gimme a jump?" Meanwhile, my sister and I were hiding on the floor in the backseat laughing hysterically and embarassed. So yes, the Hearse had to jumpstart the family truckster in the cemetary...our station wagon and hearse were probably about the same size.
Well, we made it to the luncheon afterward, we walked in with our heads down, embarassed because we were late. My friend's brother asked in front of everyone, "What happened? Did you get lost?" My dad has a history of getting lost... we said, "Nope, worse".
After he pleaded with us to get an answer we finally told him and the entire family started laughing. So, for the rest of the lunch, everyone kept saying, "Uh oh, car died..better call a hearse!"