It was twenty years ago this evening that an airliner crashed on the embankment of the M1 at Kegworth.
A friend of mine was working as an embalmer for a Leicester funeral director back then. He had been ardently pursuing a young lady for some time, and that evening had finally managed to get her round to his place for dinner. Knowing that some people found it off-putting, he had carefully avoided mentioning his profession.
The food and candlelight did the trick, and they finished up in his bed.
At about two in the morning, his phone went. Having answered it he started to get up, apologising to his date and explaining that he had an emergency call-out.
"Why, what's happened? What do you do, anyway?" she asked.
"Well, you know that news flash earlier about the plane crash on the motorway?"
"Yes..."
"Well, I'm an embalmer. I have to get up to the airport to help deal with the bodies coming out of the plane."
He never got a second date with her
A friend of mine was working as an embalmer for a Leicester funeral director back then. He had been ardently pursuing a young lady for some time, and that evening had finally managed to get her round to his place for dinner. Knowing that some people found it off-putting, he had carefully avoided mentioning his profession.
The food and candlelight did the trick, and they finished up in his bed.
At about two in the morning, his phone went. Having answered it he started to get up, apologising to his date and explaining that he had an emergency call-out.
"Why, what's happened? What do you do, anyway?" she asked.
"Well, you know that news flash earlier about the plane crash on the motorway?"
"Yes..."
"Well, I'm an embalmer. I have to get up to the airport to help deal with the bodies coming out of the plane."
He never got a second date with her
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