Primo was all excited because the Polka Dot state senate leader said he might come to the karaoke party. "He's a Polka Dot big shot!" Primo said. "He says I'm a high-quality candidate!"
"Of course you are," I said. "You have a legitimate job. You've worked your entire career in the private sector. You're not a community organizer. You look like your voters: middle class, employed, homeowner. And you're obviously not going into politics for the money."
"What's wrong with being a community organizer?" Primo asked.
"Explain to me what one is again," I said. "They do - what? Nobody knows what they do."
Primo's political friend Rich chimed in. "In some neighborhoods, being a community organizer is considered a good thing."
I looked at him and said dryly, "I am guessing not in the affluent suburbs."
He smiled. "Nope. Probably not."
Primo said, "Polka Dot big shot sent me a text! Look!"
He and Rich huddled around Primo's smarty-pants phone. I looked over his shoulder. "Primo, happy birthday! I had planned to come to your party but I had to go to a wake. See you around."
"See!" Primo said. "He was going to come!"
"Well," I said. "It's easy for him to say he was going to come, especially if he didn't come. He might be just telling you what you want to hear. But it is nice that he does know who you are and thinks you are worth cultivating."
"Because I am a high-quality candidate," Primo said.