I was just walking home from work and saw that the little sandwich board sign the town puts up to alert people that an election looms had been covered with snow. I had dutifully walked out onto the median and started kicking the snow off of it when two twenty-something, urban-clad white guys appeared.
One asked if it was relating to the primary, sort of implying that I had maybe erected the sign to begin with and I said, “Yeah, the primary is on February 5th. I didn’t put this sign up, I’m just…” “Doing your civic duty or some shit?” “Yeah, I guess.” We all chuckled.
I assumed they’d walk on and was just glad I’d escaped being made fun of or hit on, but no, they wanted to chat politics. “We gotta get that asshole and his crony friends out of power for good,” said Guy One. I asked who they were going to vote for (hoping that my assumption that they WOULD vote would maybe motivate them to actually do it). Guy Two immediately shouted, “Hillary!” Guy One was incredulous. “Why, man? It’s just the same bullshit.” “Because then Bill would be back! Bill was the best.” “Nah, nah. She wears the pants, man. Bill’s just hanging out in the background, puffing on a cigar… or a spliff…” More chuckles and then a sly glance my way to see how I’d respond to that.
I said gamely, “It’s hard to tell who’s wearing the pants in that relationship, isn’t it?” More chuckles. Then, from Guy One, “You smoke at all?” “Occasionally, yeah,” I said, not exactly lying, but speaking a truth from five years ago. “It’s hard to find a dealer around here, huh? Maybe not for you — girls get offered puffs everywhere, all the time right?” Luckily, my street had arrived. “Not in my experience, man, but it was nice talking to y’all! Vote!”