Samantha, the Political Wife, arrived at lunchtime, so I made tomato-mozzarella salad for everyone. Instead of meeting in the living room, which is clean and (mostly) free of cat hair, we squeezed around the kitchen table, where she had full view of the dirty kitchen floor. Thursday is my cleaning day. This was Wednesday. The house was about as dirty as it gets. Great.
But it was actually interesting. She laid out her proposal and her strategy for running Primo's campaign. She has a staffer who does menial tasks for her - I said I would do menial tasks to save the $10/hour she pays. I can enter names into a database just as well as someone else.
She explained that someone would need to "shadow" Primo at his events. That means walking around behind him, making sure he doesn't spend all 30 minutes talking to one person.
"I can do that," I said. "But his big challenge is that he likes to explain the really little details of everything and peoples' eyes start to glaze over."
"That's exactly why we do it," she said. "You have 30 minutes to work a room. You identify the key people to talk to, get in and get out. I could not get Theresa's husband to do that. He would spend the entire time talking to one person."
I turned to Primo. "I can do this for you. I can keep you moving. But will you get upset if I'm telling you to come on? It might come easier from someone who's not your wife."
He said he would be fine with it. We'll see.
Primo went upstairs to get something. "I told Primo he needs to get his hair cut by a hairdresser in the district," Samantha said.
"Why?"
"Because hairdressers know things. They're plugged into the gossip. He said that his hairdresser is one block outside of the district."
I laughed. "Her salon is one block outside of the district. Mr Literal. She lives in the district. I had her sign the petition already. Honestly. Engineers."
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