an unpleasant moment

Off to the undertakers to collect some ash cash. As usual, lying on the counter in the front office, the cheque is waiting for me; as usual with the payee's name left blank. In an unending ritual, I offer it politely to the secretary and ask her to fill in my name.
"To make it more official, like", I say lightly. As always with a friendly smile, she complies. I fold it in four and tuck it in my right-hand back pocket. Then I am gently ushered into the morgue to earn my money.

I am offered rubber gloves, appropriately in black, and then an ancient creature is produced for my inspection from what appears to be a giant filing cabinet. What is there to say? The body is very old, and rather obviously dead. For one thing, it is ice cold, which is never a good sign. I draw back the shroud and take a closer look, skin colour, obvious external lesions and so on. I ask the attendant to turn the body for me.
"Just to make sure there isn't a knife sticking in his back" I quip.

Job done, I make my way back to the office to complete my part of the certificate authorising a cremation. There I find another of my breed, doubtless there for a similar purpose to my own. We know each other slightly. I stand next to him at the counter as I fill in my form. I notice a cheque lying next to me. Something makes me pick it up, but in an instant it is deftly snatched from my hand by the doctor. The secretary laughs nervously, and I join in, muttering something like "Curses! Nearly got away with it" The moment passes and the atmosphere returns to normal. I finish filling in the form quickly, and make my exit, not before giving my colleague brief eye contact and bidding him goodbye.

Back in the car I am fuming with rage. How rude! Snatching it like that like some twelve-year-old oik. Couldn't he have just looked up and said quietly, "I think that's mine"? Hours later I work out why I had picked it up, knowing that my own cheque was in my back pocket. I think it was because I wanted to see if they had filled his name in or not. Whatever, it was a dumb thing to do and I burn with shame and humiliation for the rest of the day. I struggle to let the issue go and move on. Finally I console myself. If I boo-booed, I did at least cover it as well as I could have given the circumstances. But I shall remember this day. Will they, I wonder?