Well, this isn't my story but I read it somewhere. It just stuck in my mind because was kind of freaky. Well, there was a man named Gilbert Robbinson was walking towards in downtown New York one dismal day in November 1966. he hadn't any idea what he was doing there or why. He just happened to be walking down the Cold, winding road. Just then, a cold, penetrating rain fell and penetrated Gilbert's rough skin. "I should probably go home for supper." he said. he went to the nearest telephone booth and reached his hand into his over pocket---- what? he was wearing a white tux with a glamorous bow tie and pollished Black shoes. there was a logo on his shirt that said."FOR THE DICEASED, A WARDROBE FOR CORPSES." under that was the embalmer's logo, "Jerry's Ebalming plaza." "how odd!" why am i wearing a dead man's clothes?" then, he found a quarter and two pennies on the cement ground. "whoa, it must be my lucky day!" he said. he inserted the coins into the phone and told the reciever to connect him with Margeret Robbinson household. "Hello," he said into the mouthpeice. "Is Margie there?" a women's voice, slightly deeper that Margeret's, said, "I'm sorry, her husband died yesterday of Cancer, and she is at his funeral." that was the end of it. I don't know what happened next. I don't even know if it is true. all i know is that it is kind of Weird and eerie.