Thursday, January 10, 2013

Saturday June 30 The fundraiser with the bad dessert and some advice from another political spouse

We went to the fundraiser for Stephanie Perry. We were promised wine and dessert. We had planned to eat out and then go to the music festival, but ate hamburgers at home instead. Primo forgot the map he had printed so got a little panicky, but he had the email with the address on his smartypants phone, so we found it just fine.

It didn't hurt that there were three "Stephanie Perry for State House" signs in the front yard of the people hosting the event.

I was forced to wear a nametag. As I was writing my name on the tag and trying to ignore the unspoken request for the expected donation - I have discovered there is a table at the entrance to these parties where a person sits and asks, "Would you like to make a donation?" or just gives meaningful looks, I overheard a conversation from the living room: "No! We can't let them use the word 'choice!' Choice is a loaded term."

Well that was interesting.

Then I found Samantha, who already knows my name, so I didn't have to worry about talking to strangers.

"Congratulations on the job," she said.

"Oh. Yeah," I said. "I haven't accepted it yet. But it's good to have."

"If you don't want that one, the Polka Dots organizing the youth group needs a new executive director," she smiled.

"Oh yeah right," I told her. "They could offer me ten million dollars to run the Polka Dot presidential campaign and I would turn it down. I want Primo to win this election, but I don't want anyone else on your side to win." I shrugged.

She laughed. "You're a good wife."

We moved on to whether drugs should be legal (yes, even heroin and meth) and were doing just fine on our own, but Stephanie's husband approached us. I was enjoying talking to Samantha, so I almost told the guy, "We're talking about our periods" just to make him go away, but I decided not to at the last minute.

He introduced himself. "Are you a candidate's wife?" he asked.

Yes, I told him.

"Let me give you some advice," he said. Stephanie is an incumbent running for her fourth term. "I'll tell you what they told me when Stephanie was elected and the governor had all the new Polka Dots to a reception. They told me to buy a gun. I stopped watching TV and listening to the radio."

He paused. "Do you have kids?" he asked.

"No," I answered. "We have cats. Does that count?"

He shook his head. "Just make sure you have things to do on your own because Primo will be away a lot."

I thought about what he said - that I should get a life because I wouldn't have Primo around.

And I got a little insulted because hello, my identity is not centered on my husband. I can entertain myself just fine.

Plus what did he think life with an engineer was like? It's not exactly a piece of cake being in the private sector these days.

He left.

A city councilman who supports Stephanie was at the event. He approached me as he worked the room. He reached out his hand, took mine to shake it, and introduced himself, all without making eye contact once with me.

Professional politician.

But no Bill Clinton.

There was also a woman with big hair, fake eyelashes, heavy lipstick, and very high heels.

Yes, I judged her.

She walked up to me and introduced herself. She was very nice. I asked what she was doing at the event and she told me she was with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend the city councilman. Who I learned later has been married three times.

Honey. When you've been married three times, you're the X.

I wanted to tell her to run away, just because her city councilman boyfriend seems like the typical sleazy politician. Once I learned about the three marriages, I was sure she should run. But - not my business.

We didn't talk about the boyfriend. Instead, she told me she ran a cosmetic spa and I could come in for a free facial on her. Which made me wonder how bad I must look if complete strangers are offering me free cosmetic services.

Stephanie finally spoke. Lord have mercy is there anything more boring than listening to a political candidate speak to people who already intend to vote for her?

No there isn't. Blah blah blah. Give me money, do doors, make phone calls.

I tuned out and tried the desserts.

They stank.

They were store bought. Store-bought cookies and brownies. Costco, maybe. There were some homemade cookies, but they were covered with blue frosting, as was the cake. The store cookies were dry. The brownies tasted industrial. Cheap fats, not butter. What is it with PDs that they can't get dessert right?

Primo reported that the wine, however, was excellent.

Not on purpose, but because the host had accidentally opened a $165 bottle of wine, thinking it was an ordinary, serve to people he didn't know, bottle.

It wasn't. It was the Good Wine.

Primo was very happy about the wine.

I feel cheated about the dessert.

We didn't go to the music festival because we were at the fundraiser too late.

Politics sucks for the spouse.

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