The Eulogy

I really don't know why people do them. Now, don't get me wrong, I understand the need to grieve and to mourn, but there are better ways of doing it.
I mean, watch Bob as he stands up now, his face red as the boring tie he's wearing chokes him. He usually wears those daft looking ones, those cartoon character ones, Homer Simpson style, but today it's official black, I bet that was his mum's doing.
Look at him as he stands before everyone, you just know he’s sweating under that jacket, I bet his pits are dripping already, I shouldn’t laugh though, its not like I could do it.
I wonder what he’s going to talk about, the last one of these I was at ended up very religious with his uncle almost calling down Christ to judge us all there and then. The priest, god bless him did his best to take the microphone off him, but the scuffle and the subsequent knocking over of the flowers did little to set the correct mood. Someone shushes from the back of the church and the room fell silent.

“Hi.” Bob started, already looking like he was going to pass out. Before this Bob had only ever stood up at the school play, and then he was just a tree in the background, now he faced over 100 upset people, a tough crowd to work with a the best of times.
“My name’s Bob, and I’ve know Mike now for almost 27 years. Sorry, I’d known Mike for 27 years.” Oops, that’s a bad start, reminding everyone that there’s a dead body in the room.
“I used to go to school with Mike, bunking off at summer when we’d smoke drugs behind the woodwork rooms.” Another oops there, that was a something he’d thought would make a laugh, but I bet no one else knew about the drugs.
“Right…Anyway. Mike was a friend, someone you could always turn to when you needed someone, always ready to step in and defend you if you got into a fight.” On, no, he’s picked up the photo from the top of the coffin. Please tell me he isn’t going to speak to it, someone stop him…Nope, too late.
“I miss you, Mike. I really do. You were more that a friend to me, I loved you man.” Err… I hope he meant in that male, macho sort of way. Oh, no, he’s starting to cry, that will set of everyone on the front row. I can’t even make out what he’s saying now, oh, there’s drool running down his chin as he speaks, that’s gross.
Here comes the vicar. Good man, that’s it, lead him back to his chair. Look at the way everyone nods at him, like they understood what the hell he’d said. It’s always nice to see people crying at a funeral, especially the young women, there’s something so sexy about a woman crying, especially while wearing black. Hang on; it looks like the vicar is going to have a go.
“Michael lies before us today and we find time to reflect on the good times we had with him. Michael was a good Christian man whose good deeds will have assured him a place in heaven with his Auntie Georgina.” God, she was a big woman, I wouldn’t say she was fat but people had to have another postcode added to the house when she came to visit.
“Michael will be dearly missed by his Mother Sally, Father Tom and Brother Jim and I would like to ask for a moments silence in which to think about Michael in your own way.” Not you though, Bob. Not that way. I love this part though, when everyone puts their heads down and sit quietly; I usually play noughts and crosses in my head.
“Have you seen enough now, Love?” I look at Auntie Georgina, she’s not as fat as I remember her, more cuddly with a wonderful, caring smile.
“Yeah.” I nod. “We might as well go, avoid the rush. One question though, what good deeds did I do?”