One of my favorite bars EVER had wooden caskets as large tables and manhole covers welded to steel pipe as small two-person cafe tables. Add the Ramones blaring at 2pm on a weekday afternoon and I was in love with the place as soon as I walked in the door.
A guy I worked with in Windows ('93-'95) once told me his mother had picked out her casket, and was using it in the family room as a coffee table. Apparently, she was going to have the casket filled with honey after she was inside, for the preservative effect.
Exactly *why* he felt I needed to know this, I never discovered.
When I interviewed with him in '03, he had essentially forgotten all about me--he didn't even recognize me. And yet I knew this thing about his mother.
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Exactly *why* he felt I needed to know this, I never discovered.
When I interviewed with him in '03, he had essentially forgotten all about me--he didn't even recognize me. And yet I knew this thing about his mother.
And now, so do you. :)
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