The Primary

You walk out the door of your efficiency apartment, as ready as you’ll ever be to vote in the primary election.  There’s so much at stake:  job creation, the War on Terror, taxes, illegal immigration, 420-friendliness, gay marriage.  How could anyone possibly understand all of this?  But somehow these eight or nine candidates do.  Each one boasts a sound plan for fixing up this shithole of a country.  Things have been too bad for too many years.  An economic depression for as long as anyone can remember.   So much Internet pornography.  Rampant crime and drug dealing.  Hundreds of millions on welfare.

Time to do your part.  Stand athwart the tide of history.  Enjoy the waves as they break against your bony kneecaps.  The volunteer at the polling place hands you an electronic ballot.  She’s not bad for an 80-year-old.  Still has a spark in those pretty blue eyes of hers.  A date?  No, not now.  It’s too soon.  You can’t be distracted.

You stride confidently toward the voting booth, looking to all the world like someone who has been there before.  Not that you have, but hey, you had your reasons.  It was a tough decade, what with the colds and flus and hangovers.  The moment of truth arrives:  Who is the chosen one?

Images of the candidates flash across your mind.  The fat guy, he seemed okay.  The woman was sort of attractive.  You’d hit that, right?  Maybe, maybe not.  The other fat guy, the one who wasn’t as fat as the first fat guy, had a deep voice.  The rail-thin man who wore those hideous tweed coats seemed to be the most Christian of the bunch.  Would voting for him make up for not going to church?   Nah, you believe in God, but you leave a lot of room for superstition, too.  No sense throwing away a perfectly good vote on that Bible-thumper.

Clock’s ticking.  Decision 2012, correct?  Oh dear.  It never gets any easier.  Perhaps…  Well, it wouldn’t be proper.  You never even saw one of his ads.  Why don’t they run the ads on a continuous loop in here?  Just so you could hear the slogans again, hear them afresh, and make an informed decision.  They’re right that this is a terrible economy.  On top of that, the streets aren’t safe to walk and the water isn’t safe to drink.  But here’s your chance to change everything.

You click on the box marked “write-in” candidate and use the awkward touch keypad to enter your own name.   Hey, it is a free country, after all.

John Pinette is a morbidly obese comedian who has amused millions with his delightful catchphrase “I Say Nay Nay!”  He did not write this story.

Premium Membership, The Good Men Project

About Oliver Lee Bateman

Oliver Lee Bateman is one of the founders of the Moustache Club of America and Penny & Farthing, blogzines specializing in flash fiction and creative nonfiction that he co-curates with web developer Erik Hinton, medical consultant Nathan Zimmerman, and freelance writer Christie Chapman. He is a lawyer as well as an assistant professor at the University of Texas at Arlington. Follow him on Twitter @MoustacheClubUS or Google.

Speak Your Mind

*