Just saw a birthday reminder on Gunbloggers. Not mine, but damn.
Yeah, another year closer to dying.*
* Or not. I’ve screwed with some cemetery plot salescritters.
Many years ago, I got a telemarketer call pitching plots. I let her ramble, then said, “I won’t be needing a grave.”
Quotes approximate; it’s been awhile.
Oh, you already have a plot?
No. Just don’t need one.
I’m not going to die. I’m immortal.
-silence- then, I realize it may not be something to you want to dwell on, but passing is God’s plan for all of us.
Not for me. I’m immortal.
-another pause- But you can’t DO that!
It’s working so far.
I pulled that again a few years later. My grandmother wanted to see her plot and had me drive her to the cemetery. The salesweasel tried selling me a plot of my own. Gave him the immortality routine. I’d swear his expression shifted from joking to crazy to Shit, is he? But he shut up.