Friday, July 18, 2008
Friday's Story: How I Bought an Election
Back in the heady 1990s, before I was brought down by a wholly fictional (and physiologically improbable) sex scandal, I was president of my college's Young Democrats chapter. Mostly this involved rounding up sprightly young kids to hold banners at rallies, "liaising" with other student groups, and copious amounts of plastic-jugged liquor with unsettling names like, "Broke College Kid Semi-Vodka - Drink/Enjoy/Die."
It's my senior year, and my club is hosting the statewide convention. Dorky Demo-bots roll in from all 100 counties (ok, maybe not that many - but the more witnesses there are, the better the story). We book meeting space, we arrange for statewide elections, we're good to go.
Until my friend, Dana, who was running for statewide president, falls ill and lands in the hospital. She asks me to read her speech for her. I agree.
I'm wearing my finest pastel suit (this is the South, after all). I'm sitting on the stage at the front of the auditorium, reading her speech. And I'm killing. Every Demo-Dork, from every corner of the state, is hanging on my every word. Mouths are open, and expressions are thoughtful.
Dana wins in a landslide.
At the after-party, I ask how my speech went. As it turns out, it wasn't the speech, nor the way I delivered it. Nope. I had somehow provided the entire auditorium with a direct sight line to my underpants. In fact, nobody I spoke to could remember a word I'd said.
Moreover, as it was laundry day, I was wearing cotton Goofy Disney underpants from Wal-Mart.
So, that's how I bought an election with my underpants. And, Dana, that statewide presidency bloody well better STILL be on your resume. You owe me, dude.
UPDATE - So, I just realized something. I wrote a post about flashing a roomful of people on my dad's 73rd birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD!!!! Staying classy up here in DC, don't you worry.