"I work in the Morgue"

Her mother peeked her slightly wrinkled face into the doorway. “You’d better put on your highest heels,” she said and retreated back into the hallway. Clad in a plaid skirt, and perfectly color coordinated flats, Lisa became frazzled immediately. She whipped back toward her closet and searched for the only pair of pants that weren’t wrinkled like tissue paper. She quickly kicked off her shoes, stripped off her skirt, and pulled on a pair of bright red slacks that were only expectable because it was 1982. Taking her mother’s advice, she slid on her highest pair of pumps, and after taking one last glance at the mirror, she pranced out her room and down the stairs. Lisa had only met Lenny once before; they had been introduced by a mutual friend at a party. He had come from a Honeywell softball game and was sitting casually on the arm of a sofa, covered in infield dust. It was hard in that moment for her to create any real sort of opinion, and she was eager to see him again.

As little five foot nothing Lisa entered the breezeway, she was struck by her mother’s words. “You’d better put on your highest heels” was an understatement. Although her pumps gave her an extra few inches, Lenny still towered above her. At six feet three, he had to cock is head to one side when entering through the doorway. He was different than any guy she had dated before. He was tall and thin, but with broad shoulders than gave him the allusion of added size; his face was partially covered by a full beard, and although her family stood there awkwardly, he seemed to feel no sense of discomfort. Lisa gave a meek hello, and he responded with a wide smile that traveled up and emanated from his small, cloudy blue eyes. While he appeared completely content, Lisa was eager to escape the burning looks of her parents. She had agreed to a date with a man she had barely met; furthermore, she did not even know his last name. Explaining that one to dear old Bob and Winnie was far from easy, but since she was nineteen, and a grown girl their objections fell flat, and she had their consent as long as they met him beforehand.

Lisa followed Lenny towards his car, taking quick little steps to keep in stride with his long legs. He led her to his little cadet blue Camaro, which she would later find out was in fact his younger brother’s. After opening her door and walking around towards his, Lenny turned the little car to life. The engine roared ferociously, and Lisa jumped a little at the sudden noise. As they pulled out the driveway and picked up speed, they both quickly realized any attempts at conversation would be hindered by the thunder of the engine. Lenny tried to ignore the noise and chat; however, he was only received by a couple confused looks and inaudible replies.

Fortunately, the drive was short and they quickly turned off Rt. 1 into the parking lot of a restaurant Lisa had never seen before, the Hardcover Restaurant. It seemed to a real swanky place, the kind with small portions but high prices. The kind a

As the two headed to the hostess podium, Lisa listened earnestly for Lenny to give his name. “Uh ya, a table for two please.” He said, “Under Flinstone.” As Lisa rethought the entire date, Lenny turned and smirked at her as if it was a joke for only them. Completely confused, Lisa smiled back.

After a few short minutes the two were sat, and once the ordering had been done the interview process began.

And then came Lenny asked the question. “So what do you do for work?”

“I actually work in the morgue at the Lahey Clinic in Burlington.” Lenny choked on his Coke. There Lisa sat, the pretty little size zero with a shy, peeking smile. He just stared dumbfounded for a minute. He was not one to be caught off guard, and moreover, he was never one to be at a loss for words. She didn’t seem to notice his utter shock. Finally, after the initial surprise wore off, he replied “Cool,” and he meant it. He had never met a girl who could handle the thought of dead people, never mind work with them. “What do you do there?” He inquired earnestly?

And that was that. Little Lisa Zimmerman, and whom she would soon find out was Lenny Rowe, not Flinstone, sat and chatted for hours. They discusses their professions, their families, their plans for the week, and what they would eventually like to happen with their bodies upon death, which is surprising not an awkward topic when one works in a morgue.