What you are about to read is based on the first-hand experience of a cemetery worker who perhaps had too much fun working at the melancholy place of grief.
Picture this: your Grandmother recently passed away, and now it’s time to say your final goodbyes at the neighborhood cemetery. This is going to be your first time entering the hallowed grounds of St. Adalbert Cemetery (Niles, IL), and you are expecting to have the stereotypical cemetery experience. Little do you know, you are driving into a loony bin of clowns and degenerates that really couldn’t give a fuck less about your Nan. You look out the window to see the infinite line of headstones that your Grandmother will soon join, but, in the distance, three 19 year old boys wearing neon green cemetery shirts, strapped with 6 ft. long weed-wackers chase a pack of coyotes around like a bunch of fucking hooligans. Wait what? How are they allowed to do that? Where is their boss to scold them? You then look out the window on the opposite side of the car to see 2 other men sitting in a truck. One is taking a nap while the other hits his dab pen, obviously apathetic about his surroundings. He catches a sweet buzz at 11am on a Tuesday. In a cemetery. Welcome to St. Adalbert.
On the surface, we may seem like a normal cemetery; however, look to the workers who maintain the grounds and dig the graves, and you, my friend, are in for a comedy show so good that a sitcom camera crew would have enough footage for a week’s worth of shows. From the empty beer cans littered throughout the line of tombstones, to the neighborhood teenagers who booze there at night, to the used condoms under the trees, and, finally, the chain-smoking degenerates who lay your Aunt Judy into her final resting place, everything about this place is a goddamn circus. The amount of personalities and shenanigans that are on public display on a daily basis during the summertime is comedic gold, and I want to share my experiences with you all.
First, the weed-wackers. These guys are at the bottom of the totem pole, and they give the least fucks out of all the workers because their employment lasts only but a few weeks while they’re home from college . This is where I worked for over a year and where my love for the job began. This job consists of driving around in circles for long periods of time to avoid the boss, taking naps in the truck, terrorizing the pack of coyotes that live in the cemetery, and pretending your weed-wacker is broken so you don’t have to work. In reality, it’s fuck around for 6 hours of the day, work for 2. Sign me up.
Second, the mowers. Not much to say about these folks, except that they ride on the mowers all day and cut grass. Their lives are kind of sad considering most of them are middle-aged, formerly-laid-off divorcees. These guys aren’t as cool as the weed-wackers, but the mowers are pussy magnets. So if you see this guy pull up on your driveway, hide your wife and daughters, because Mr. Steal Your Girl has arrived.
Finally, the full-timers, aka the gravediggers. These guys are out of their minds crazy. I guess that happens when you work at a cemetery for 30 years of your life. Out of the dozen full-timers who reside at St. Adalbert, I’d say maybe only 3 of them are considered normal guys. Everyone else is a fucking riot. There is never a dull moment when these psychos are around. Let me introduce you to some of my favorites.
Meet John John. This dude is a fucking animal. Name is so good you gotta say it twice. Retard strength is threw the roof with this one. Catch this beast rocking his hardhat like some wanna-be Bob the Builder headass. Upon first meeting this character, you may think that he is actually retarded, due to the fact that he only mumbles, you have no clue what the fuck he is saying, and he moves in slow motion. In reality, he is addicted to painkillers and lives in a constant state of being high as balls, which explains the lack of mobility and enunciation. The key to his heart is a pack of Marlboro Black cigarettes, which dually serves as his lunch. Keep doing your thing John John.
Hola Rudy. Que tal? Rudy is Speedy Gonzales incarnate. He likes to blast Spanish music, he’s full of energy, and he has a thick Mexican accent. Rudy is the boss so he has some clout, but he is so FTB that he tells us to relax and make it look like we’re working when it’s too hot or rainy out. He is also not afraid to flirt with the hot, widowed milfs who come to visit their dead husband’s grave. Death is nature’s most powerful aphrodisiac.
I can keep going with this list of characters who work at the cemetery and all the good times and memories made there, but that would take too long. I could honestly write a 6 page thesis paper about why St. Adalbert cemetery is the best place to work with all my material. I have many other stories I can tell, but for now I’ll leave you with a question. Circus or Cemetery? The jury is still in deliberation.
Pardon My French 