Ladies, let’s get real: we’ve all been to Sharon’s wake, and if you haven’t, you’re in for a treat. Here are all the types of guys you’ll meet there!
- The “Sharon’s Dad”
This type of guy is easy to spot: he’s Sharon’s dad. Whether he’s blinking back tears, dabbing at his eyes, or openly weeping, this guy certainly sired Sharon, and he’s here for one reason and one reason only: to mourn his dead daughter. Don’t be fooled, he’s got a wild side: catch him ducking into a corner to take a quick swig from the flask in his discount suit! This type of guy is the staple of every wake, given the wake is for his deceased child. If there’s a wake, and it’s for his daughter Sharon, you can bet this guy’ll be there!
- The “Cousin Kyle”
You know the one. When Sharon’s wake needs a pick-me-up, you can count on Cousin Kyle to lighten the mood. He’s always ready to perform a tight five, or sell you some Adderall to “liven things up,” or sit in ashamed silence after realizing he’s just sold you Adderall at his cousin’s wake. When it comes to funereal rites, most guys can get pretty uptight, but Cousin Kyle really puts the “fun” back in “Sharon’s wake.” Also his conjunctivitis makes crying difficult. Thanks, Cousin Kyle!
- The “Kyle (no relation to Cousin Kyle)”
On the outside, this type of guy resembles Cousin Kyle. But on the inside, he’s a totally different guy who happens to have the same name as Cousin Kyle. Check, please!
- The “Try-Hard”
Okay, we get it. At the funeral he was the life of the party. But does he really need to show up at the wake and make it all about him? Boy, bye.
- The “Sharon’s Corpse”
Sharon looks good. It’s easy to stare too long at her pale face and fixate on the accident. But it wasn’t your fault. It was rainy that night, and the roads were slick, and it was Sharon’s decision, not yours, to walk to Darren’s midnight charades party. You and Sharon were both tipsy, and your gaze refracted Sharon into pieces: her eyes excited and wide, almost alien, the light of the streetlamp glancing off her smile. Sharon fucking loved charades. And you remember her smile, her laugh—broken by a high, screeching sound, like a fork on ceramic. The truck couldn’t brake in time. And when it really mattered, you froze. You didn’t call anyone. But you need to stop dwelling on ghosts. Stop picturing her body crumpling bird-like under the weight of that semi. Her maxi dress hides her mangled body, and her eyelids hide her accusing eyes. But how do you move on from that moment, bent over Sharon’s body, suddenly impossibly small, your throat rubbed raw, crying into the darkness?
- The Guy Who Says He’s Into You But Will Never Make A Real Commitment
And yet he finds the time to show up at Sharon’s wake. Typical.