Suffice it to say Old Boy’s funeral was a train wreck from the get-go. It’s really hard to put my finger on the exact moment when things veered from moderately tacky to tragically horrific, but I’ll give it a shot…

Was it when we got to the church and Lola sashayed in, reeking of Miller Light and Oil of Olay?

Or was it when Lola totally pretended not to see Gong-Li and Soon-Yun and marched up to the casket and assumed her place as grieving widow without missing a beat?

Was it the moment Gong-Li tried to say hello to Lola and Lola looked at her with a quizzical “who the fuck are you?” expression, then turned back to greeting mourners, all laughing and telling stories in an outside voice?

It’s really hard to say. That’s because there were so many other fantastic moments, such as…

~ Old Boy’s niece showing up working her farmer’s market look to a fare-thee-well. Sadly, I forgot my phone in the rush to get Lola to the car before she could change her mind, but I can say without hesitation that I have never seen a thigh length denim skirt slit up to the hoo-hoo chute coupled with a spaghetti strap tank top and jeweled flip-flops ever worn with such panache. And the fact that the top showed off the tragic angel wings tattoo on her back — pure genius. And I mean that.

~ Gong-Li’s husband Clark trying to make conversation with me by asking if my shoes were comfortable, followed by several minutes of awkward silence following my “yes.”

~ Old Boy’s sister — Holy Cow — showing up about 100 pounds lighter with no clue where she was and talking about the dog show.

~ Lola asking me if this was my “fruity friend” when Randy dropped by to pay his respects.

~ The moment when I went to the fountain for a drink and hardly pushed the button, causing water to fly about 3 feet across the room which in turn caused me to jump back and cry “Jesus Christ!” while unbeknowst to me, the pastor was waiting behind me for a drink.

~ Some church lady showing up and asking Gong-Li if Lola was Old Boy’s mother which Lola responded to with a much too loud “Who the hell is she talking about? Me? Somebody better get their damn eyes examined…”

~ The rest of Old Boy’s family showing up looking like they just wandered in from Dogpatch.

~ The pre-service prayer for the family and pall-bearers in the church lobby, during which Lola sucked on her front teeth and looked over said Dogpatch residents and rolled her eyes at me instead of bowing her head in prayer.

~ DuShawn and myself laughing silently until the tears rolled when the pastor — a man who had obviously never met Old Boy — described him as “the salt of the earth — forthright, simple, honest, never asking for or expecting anything.”

~ The horrificly long (and I firmly believe made up) hymns Soon-Yun chose. Seriously, what the fuck is “It Is Well With My Soul”? I think “Jesus Loves Me” followed by a rousing chorus of “Amazing Grace” would have sufficed plenty good. DuShawn would find them in the hymnal, then hold up fingers to let me know the number of verses we had to endure. This also inspired us giggle like nine year old girls at a slumber party…which is sad since we are men well into our 40’s.

~ Lola’s mad dash to the car so “we can be the first car behind the hearse — Gong-Li and Soon-Yun can suck me!”

~ Lola’s insane excitement and eager anticipation of receiving the gaily colored gift bag the undertaker was carrying as we waited to proceed to the cemetary. DuShawn and Patrice believe her drooling was in no small part in response to my telling her that said bag was “a swag-bag with sunglasses, a t-shirt, sun tan oil, and coupons for Florida vacations to help ease the loss of a loved one.” I’m such a bastard sometimes.

And while any of those would have been more than enough unto themselves, it was when we reached the cemetary that things went from fairly memorable to downright classic.

While we pall-bearers delivered Old Boy to the grave, Lola and his daughters took their seats in the designated area under an awning set up graveside. DuShawn and I could hardly suppress a fresh round of giggles when we caught a glimpse of Lola on the far left, arms folded across her chest, head tilted with her tongue firmly in her cheek.

The pastor delivered a rerun of his church sermon — I’ve never read it, but I know the Bible is thick enough to have more than 3 passages — then made his way over to Lola where he gently rubbed her shoulder and said he would be in touch.

“I saw how your eyes met over the casket,” I later told Lola, “and I think you’re going to like his version of getting ‘in touch.’”

With the God stuff out of the way, it was time to disperse. Or so I thought.

Lola had another idea.

“Hey, everybody! Get a look at Old Boy’s vault lid before you haul ass!”

Now I’ll be completely honest and tell you straight up I had no idea what the fuck a vault was. The bulk of my knowledge regarding burial comes from horror movies and soap operas and they never have vaults unless they are in a mausoleum. So imagine my surprise/horror when I found out what a vault was and then to discover that Lola had had an image engraved into the vault lid.

A silhouette of a ball capped Old Boy on a riding mower.

And not a little silhouette. One that took up about a third of the lid.

But that wasn’t the most surprising part.

Oh no.

The most surprising part was the collective group’s genuine appreciation for Lola’s brainstorm. They loved it. L-O-V-E-D it. No shit. People actually came up and asked her who had done it — and presumably not to avoid enlisting their services.

Hicks.

And then, just when I was breathing a sigh of relief that we had hit the home stretch with almost nary an incident I couldn’t pass off as a widow’s grief talking, it happened.

Gong-Li and Soon-Yun had wandered over to the casket with the pastor and were pointing at the huge spray of roses Lola had ordered. To be more precise, they were pointing at a small white, heart shaped pillow in the center of the spray with 3 baby roses attached. A pillow which the pastor then removed and handed to Gong-Li.

“What the hell are they doing with my fucking roses?” Lola asked everyone and no one all at once.

Patrice had spotted the incident and was already moving in to intercept Lola, but it was no use. One good shove and all 110 pounds of Patrice were out of Lola’s way. DuShawn and I moved in like third rate secret service protecting the president. But we had too late to prevent the inevitable.

Thankfully, the undertaker also saw what was about to go down and bravely stepped between Lola and the flower thieves.

“What the hell are they doing with my fucking flowers?” Lola demanded, pointing wildly over the undertaker’s shoulder at the roses in question.

“They’re just taking a few roses as a remembrance, Lola,” the undertaker stammered.

“Mom, let’s step back,” I whispered, gently taking her arm.

“Fuck the remembrances — they’ve got 30 grand a piece to remember their father by. I want my goddamn flowers…all of them. And right now.”

Before anyone could even take a breath, let alone move, Lola brushed past the undertaker, elbowed the pastor out of the way, and seized the huge spray of roses, which she then thrust into my arms.

“Put ‘em in the fucking car, Dirk. I paid for ‘em and they’re going home with me.”

The mourners who had gathered for what they were sure was an inevitable throw-down parted like the Red Sea as I made my way to the car, shame faced and wishing I’d let Lola booze it up and stay home after all. I placed the flowers in the trunk and returned to the graveside in time to hear Soon-Yun telling Lola she wanted the will read Tuesday so that she would not have to make a return trip.

“Yeah, well people in Hell want ice water,” Lola replied in a bored tone and walked off. “C’mon, Dirk, DuShawn, Patrice — time to hit the road.”

When we got back to Lola’s, her elderly neighbor came out to apologize for missing the funeral. “What is that?” she asked as I removed the all important flowers from the trunk.

“Secretariat here won the Kentucky Derby,” I replied as I took the gaudy bouquet into the house.

And that was how Old Boy’s funereal spray came to rest on Lola’s bed that night instead of his grave.