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by arp242
812 days ago
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There's an old Soviet joke: A man goes to a newspaper stand every day, buys a copy of Pravda, glances at the front cover, curses, and throws it away. After a few weeks of this the seller just has to ask what's going on: "why do you always look at the cover but never inside?" "I'm looking for an obituary." "An obituary? But those are in the back!" "Oh no, the obituary I'm looking for will be on the front page." |
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They retained a lot of the old advertisers: funeral homes. They sponsored two regularly scheduled readings of funeral notices at 7 and 11:45. Basically, radio obituaries.
One woman didn't like the format, so she'd tune in exactly at 11:45. If we ran them early for some reason, she'd call and demand we read them to her. This happened about twice a month.
Sometimes I got the call, sometimes it was the guy who came in after me. Always the same voice. We called her the funeral lady.
One morning the other guy had enough and I heard him taking to her, "look, lady, is there someone in particular you're hoping is going to die? Just give me a name and we'll call you when they're dead."