On Sunday, I went down to the hospital cafeteria to get some lunch. When the elevator doors opened and I stepped out, I found that the undertaker was waiting there.
I thought to myself, “I’m glad he wasn’t standing there with someone who was about to take their final journey from the hospital.”

On my way back, I had to wait for the elevator. This time, the door opened and the undertaker wheeled someone out, very respectfully covered with a lovely quilt.
Awkward.

Then, this evening when I was coming back from grabbing some dinner…
You guessed it.
Awkward.