Bucharesti – Romania
This might sound like a headline which you would be more likely to find on the pages of the National Enquirer or a British Tabloid than you would fine in my humble blog and I’m going to reduce my credibility further by saying – my wife’s nephew told her that a friend of his had recently suffered a personal tragedy and had been so stricken with grief that he had a heart attack. The hospital in Bucharesti tried and failed to resuscitate him. Mr Vasilescu (Not his real name) was pronounced dead several hours late.
Move forward a few days and the hero of our story is buried, with much gnashing of teeth and wailing from his relatives. Said hero was a successful businessman and even El Presidente Basescu attended his funeral. It is customary in Romania to be buried in your Sunday best wearing your usual jewellery (Romanian men tend to wear such a profusion of rings, necklaces and bracelets that even a rapper would look cheap by comparison).
He was somewhat fortunate that this is the custom in Romania as we shall shortly see. Gravediggers are probably not the most highly paid people in any society and the same applies to Romania. It seems the two fellows in this case were supplementing their income by a bit of moonlighting. Gheorghe & Petru (their names have been changed to protect their identities) our intrepid grave diggers decided to return later that night and ensure that the gold which had been buried with our hero did not go to waste.
Undre the cover of moonlight Gheorghe and Petru stole into the graveyard and started digging up the grave. They laboured intensely for 20 minutes stopping for breath and for Petru to take a whizz in a darkened corner. Gheorghe was getting impatient for Petru to come back but he lit himself and cigarette and thought about the girl he would be spending his money on. He decided he would pick a blonde this time, a Ukrainian.
The pair got back to work and finally uncovered the coffin. This coffin was an expensive one it was made of the finest wood and had fancy brass fittings. Petru quickly unclasped the clasps on each side of the coffin and then Gheorghe wrenched the lid open while trying to balance with the torch in his hand. He failed and dropped the torch. The old fashioned torch immediately went out.
A sudden chill caught Petru and he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. An owl hooted. Gheorghe farted. “Scuzatz I always do that when I am nervous.”
There was a sudden movement from the coffin. “Where did you drop that torch Petru?” “I though you had it?” said Petru who was scrambling around looking for it, he picked it up and turned it back on. Petru shon it back towards the coffin and dropped it immediately; when he saw that MR Vasilescu was sitting up in the coffin.
“Vampire, Vampire, Cura Mate!
The both scrambled out of the grave and ran into the night in fear of their lives.
Mr Vasilescu managed to stagger down the road and got help.
As it turns out Mr Vasilescu had fallen into a coma after having had a reaction to some of the drugs he was given at hospital. The incompetent staff has simply assumed he was dead and carried on with their work.
The next day after being re-united with his family Mrs Vasilescu asked her husband if he wanted to call the police to go after the would be tomb raiders. He emphatically refused pointing out that they had saved his life. God Bless Romania.
