Wrong name wrong time.

At a burial ceremony with this new assistant of mine who mocked me the other day for drinking elders’ palm wine and getting almost high. We were standing there looking at beautiful … people walk back and forth. This fellow walks up to us, clearly drunk, and clearly not noticing all the beautiful… people walking back and forth. He strikes a conversation with my partner and proceeds to ask him his name.
My name is..” pause “..James..”. “James what?” the fellow asked, “James… Flomo” my partner replies. “Oh, sorry brother, its sad to have lost a loved one, a mother for that matter. Good to see you’re looking cheerful.”

Apparently, Flomo is the name of the bereaved family.
And when the fellow asked me why I suddenly started laughing I just faked a cough and pointed at my chicken.


7 thoughts on “Wrong name wrong time.

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