He takes off his hat
as a gesture
showing himself to be
a polite
upstanding
gentleman
in this moment of solemn
seriousness
and reveals a
slightly smaller
hat,
there,
underneath.
Embarassed,
the man quickly
snatches
this hat off his
head –
but there,
as before,
sits one
slightly smaller.
The widow
begins to giggle
as the man
continues his struggle
with
the hats –
all those hats –
so many
hats.
Finally,
exhausted,
the man
stops
with a
tiny hat
perched precariously
on top of his
sweating head.
At this time
the widow
is laughing –
screaming with laughter –
the rest of the party
stares
with concern.
“I’m terribly
sorry
about my problem
with hats
at such a
solemn occasion,”
says
the man.
“Oh,
it’s not
the hats,”
says the widow
between gulps
of laughter,
“it’s that
feta cheese
mustache
that you wear with
such pride.”
The whole funeral
party
breaks out
laughing –
the man
with the hats
does
a little
jig –
all the time
brushing
his
feta cheese
mustache.
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