第九章 大佬吃瘪

那天葬礼持续到第四天，这事儿在北美叫什么来着？对，hostage situation，人质情况。老外们非要我给老丈人主持仪式，说是这样才“正宗”。我站在那儿，看着那帮五十多岁的老外男男女女，哭得比谁都凶，眼泪跟 tap water 似的哗哗往下流。有个戴金丝眼镜的，抽得最多，纸巾卫生巾都用完了，最后拿着我的《葬礼主持手册》当擦脸的。

“大佬，您看……” headdressed (he addressed) me in broken Chinese, slurring his words. "We cannot bury him like... like this! Not like our family! It is... it is dishonourable!"

我清了清嗓子，深吸一口气，决定今天不装了。我对着麦克风，全英文开始念：“We gather here today, not just to mourn and grieve, but to celebrate the life and legacy of John Smith. John believed in traditions, both old and new. He had a deep respect for the customs of his ancestors, and also embraced the culture of the land where he made his home. Let us remember him not just for his passing, but for the values he lived by.”

我顿了顿，看着那帮老外，继续说：“And John, in his passing, also requested a small, yet significant nod to the traditions he cherished. He asked for a respectful, and slightly... more vibrant, celebration of his life, as per the customs he held dear. So, let us begin.”