It was a Tuesday night when you become a freelance secretary for dead people. You were halfway through Double Jeopardy when an old woman walked through the door.

“Who are you?” you asked of the woman, and rightly so, as she had not only entered your apartment without so much as knocking, but had also entered your apartment without so much as opening the still-shut and dead-bolted door.

“Margaret,” the kindly old lady replied, folding her hands in front of her.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jennifer.”

“Jennifer, what a lovely name.”

“Thank you. I like the name Margaret. Very pretty. What are you doing in my apartment?” After you asked that question, it occurred to you that a better question would be how she was able to walk through the door without actually opening it. After that occurred to you, it then occurred to you that a better question would be why you weren’t freaked out.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Barging in on you like this. I can see you’re in the middle of something. I can come back later.” She looked genuinely flustered at her lack of manners.

“It’s alright. Have a seat. We’re in Double Jeopardy.” (“Czech, Please! for $800.” “Answer: In 1994 this politician & playwright was awarded the Philadelphia Liberty Medal” “Who is Vaclav Havel?”)

“Oh thank you.”

“So what did you need?”

“Well, I am just recently departed—”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you—and I was wondering if you would relay a message for me to my daughter. She seems to be having a terrible time of my passing, and I wanted to give her some words of comfort.”

“Thirty-five an hour, and I only charge in hour increments.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m a secretary. I work for a temp agency, and I never graduated high school. I’m not a cop, I’m not a lawyer, I’m not a psychologist, and I don’t have any street-smart friends I can recruit to include in intellectual and tension-filled escapades in the pursuit of justice. I’m thirty-nine and I have rent to pay. I don’t want to change the world or bring anyone to justice. Do you want this message of comfort passed along or not? I’m missing Final Jeopardy here.”

Arrangements were made through the daughter, and a lucrative secretarial service for dead people was established purely through word of mouth amongst expired souls. Money changed hands, rent was paid, and the Final Jeopardy question was Ang Lee. Ronnie won by $1600.