I had to go to some election night parties with Primo. Trust me, not how I want to spend my time. I don't want to go to Polka Dot parties, I don't want to go to Stripes parties. I AM DONE WITH POLITICS! I especially don't want to go to a party where the attendees are hissing at the Stripes politicians on the screen. Really? So elegant.
The first party was hosted by two candidates. I thought Primo and I had made our escape - I was waiting in the front of the restaurant for him to say his goodbyes after we had been there for over an hour, but then he came out to bring me back in. "They're going to acknowledge me in their speeches," he said. "I want you there."
I rolled my eyes, sighed, and walked back in. He stood in the front with the candidates. I stood in the back.
Some guy - not one of the candidates - was speaking. Droning. About how the fight would continue against (the Koch Brothers/George Soros/pick your own evil rich person or family). He wouldn't shut up. My feet started to hurt. I was getting annoyed. I would have read something interesting on my smartypants phone but I couldn't get a connection in the restaurant, which is consistent with my other experience with T-Mobile. That is, it works great in my house, where I have a computer and a phone, but it rarely works when I am away from the house and a connection would be useful.
He finally shut the heck up.
But then Candidate #1 got up and took the microphone.
Candidate #1 is a talker. At least she does not drone, but who wants to listen to political speeches? Even if you agree with the person, you have to admit that political speeches are boring.
She talked and talked and talked. She thanked everyone who had helped her and introduced them all to the crowd. As if we cared. Then she asked all the children in the room to come up to the stage. Primo looked at me and laughed. I rolled my eyes. We both knew what was coming: A "It's for the leetle cheeldren!" speech.
And indeed it was. Primo looked at me again, biting his lip and trying not to laugh. I just rolled my eyes and scowled. My feet hurt and I was bored stiff. Man, I hate politics.
Then she launched into the women in politics discourse and how she was doing it for the women. As if only a woman can represent another woman. And only a man can represent another man. I guess I need to vote only for middle-aged, plump, Scandanvian women who dye their hair Clairol #24 Clove. How can anyone else ever understand me and my needs?
We got to Party #2. Every seat is taken as people stare at the TV. There is nowhere to sit. The hostess asks if she can take my coat. It's freezing inside the house, so I decline. She offers food, but we are not hungry - we ate at Party #1, which, to its credit, had good food.
I am not interested in watching political analysis on TV. It's only 8:00 p.m. The polls are just closing in our time zone. There is still one more time zone to go. We won't know anything for a while about the president and really, I don't care about the president. There is nothing I can do about the presidential race. I can just hope for my candidate.
What I really want to know is about Primo's race and they're not reporting on that. The president will be who the president will be, people! Watching the analysis won't change the outcome!
Samantha and her husband are at the party. They are in the dining room, looking at the local newspaper online, checking local results. Which of course are not in yet because the polls just closed.
I turn my back to Samantha. I don't want to talk to her.
I look at the desserts. All store bought.
Some store-bought stuff is OK, but I am not impressed with the selection. I guess I should have brought something but I didn't know. Primo did bring wine.
I look for the bathroom, just so I can have a place to be alone. I walk into the kitchen and discover why it's so cold: the kitchen window is open. Closing it would solve a lot of the problem, but it's not my house so it's not my call. I just keep my coat on.
Then I notice the cats. I can always hang out with cats. I sit on a box in the kitchen next to one cat and stroke it until it loses patience and saunters away.
I return to the dining room, hoping that Primo won't want to stay long. I see MaryJane. She starts talking to me.
I have to stay far enough back not to be assaulted by her two-pack-a-day breath. It is just foul. She is talking about the candidate forum that she and Primo participated in.
"At first, I thought the Stripes were evil," she says, "but my opinion changed after the forum. Now I think they're just robots who can't function without a script."
Well. If your opponent is an evil robot who can't function without a script, then there is no need to address the actual issues, is there? I am confident that MaryJane will win her district with that compelling campaign strategy.
Primo shakes his head. "My opponent is a good guy," he says. "He's a good politician. We agree on some things."
"But he didn't even know about [legislation that was passed last session]! He voted on it! And he didn't know!" MaryJane protests.
I agree that it was bad that Mark didn't remember that legislation, but to be honest, it was stupid and pointless legislation. More accurately, it was legislation to correct a stupid and pointless law that had been passed in the previous session by the Polka Dots. In light of everything else that went on last year, I guess I'm not surprised that stupid and pointless laws about stupid and pointless laws didn't stick in his mind. He should have remembered. But that didn't mean he was an evil robot.
"Are you going to call [your opponent] if you lose?" Primo asks MaryJane.
MaryJane scoffs. "I don't owe him a thing!"
I am shocked. "But isn't that how it's done? That you call and concede?"
I don't know if that's how it's done. Maybe it's not. "Won't it hurt you later if you don't?"
MaryJane shakes her head. "The people in my neighborhood won't care. And he's going to do such damage that I don't have to do anything. If he wins, I might call him tomorrow."
Primo says, "If I lose, I'll call Mark tonight."
That's because Primo is not a jerk.