A Free Offer to Die For

Occasionally I receive  pieces of  junk snail mail that get my attention and escape immediate propulsion through the air to the recycle basket.  These survivors usually have “free offer”,   ” invitation”, or “limited deal” imprinted on them.  I am particularly drawn to any envelopes that indicate that an invitation has been extended to me.  Who doesn’t feel special when invited somewhere?  And very often these invitations promise some kind of refreshments, door prizes or complimentary gifts.  Living on a fixed income makes these opportunities even more appealing.

So I was pretty excited to receive an invitation in the mail yesterday.  It promised to afford me an opportunity to relax with my neighbors and enjoy a cup of coffee.  (I assumed that snacks like donuts and pastry would accompany the cup o’ joe)  I continued reading and was delighted that not only would I be able to relax, sip (hopefully eat) and chat with my neighbors, but the format of the meeting would be that of a seminar.  Since I retired I have been actively seeking out programs and events to further my learning.  I look for interesting workshops,  attend a weekly short story discussion group and occasionally take advantage of lectures at the Kennedy Library.  So naturally, the opportunity to attend a free seminar caught my attention.  Until I read the fine print, which was in bold font for some reason.  The topic of the seminar I was so graciously invited to was how to plan my own funeral.  Out of all of the interesting things I had considered doing during my retirement, this particular activity had totally slipped my mind.  Fortunately, people at the local funeral home had more foresight.

The brochure pointed out that “an estimated one million people, last year alone, had planned and paid for their own final arrangements”. (The only downside I could see to this investment is that you would never find out how the services went, thus never know if you got your money’s worth). I have never liked being left out of a trend, so I felt a rush of gratitude that I would be on the cutting edge of this phenomenon.  I also learned that the seating for this seminar was limited to 50 participants.  For some reason that always makes an offer even more irresistible.  Really, who wants to be number 51, standing outside the door?

There’s nothing like a reminder of your mortality to ruin your day.  The more I thought about this invitation, the more anxious I became.  Why did they choose me at this particular time?  Was it just a coincidence that I have a birthday coming up in a few weeks?  I have recently made an appointment for my yearly physical.  Did they somehow already know something I didn’t?  This last idea really spooked me.

I started to visualize what the seminar might be like.  Who were the other 49 people?  Were they really my neighbors?  Or just a random group of people who also happened to have May birthdays?   Did we share the same birth year? Would we sit around a pot of coffee exchanging the details of our current maladies?  I wasn’t feeling good about this.

As tempting as the offer of coffee and a snack was, I decided that if I attended this freebie,  they would definitely have to serve me something stronger.  And nothing on ice.

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