I hate politics. This is code for "I hate talking about politics because I have feelings and sometimes I cry." Everyone who knows me can affirm that this is factual. It's okay though, crying is good for cleaning out your eyes (true story).
The only time I ever had fun talking about politics was last summer when I got a call from a strange number. I only picked up because he kept calling over and over again. Like legit three times in a row, one right after the other. So I assumed it was Important or An Emergency or something, right? Well. It was not.
The guy told me it would only take 15-20 minutes. 30 minutes later, he was desperate to get off the phone.
The conversation went somewhat like this:
Guy: I'm going to tell you some names, and for each name I'd like you to choose a number between 0-100 to rate that person, 0 being the least favorable and 100 being the most favorable.
Me: Do I have to use whole numbers?
Guy: What?
Me: Like fractions and decimals, can I use those?
Guy: I mean... it's 0-100...
Me: So no?
Guy: Yeah, if you find that you're at 89.999 for someone, then you can pretty much just say 90.
Me: That's a B+ to an A-.
Guy: Uh... it's a different scale, we're not grading them.
Me: Oh. Okay.
Guy: Are you ready to hear the names?
Me: Yes.
Guy: Barack Obama.
Me: Hm. I mean, I've never met him, but he seems like a nice guy. He smiles a lot.
Guy: Well, yeah, you're not expected to have met these people.
Me: That makes sense.
Guy: So as a politician, not as a person.
Me: Okay, um... 100.
Guy: Okay, Mitt Romney.
Me: 100.
Guy: Uh, okay... Bob Dold.
Me: 100.
Guy: Brad Schneider.
Me: 100.
Guy: Pat Quinn.
Me: 100.
Guy: Rahm Emmanuel.
Me: 100.
Guy: Mark Kirk.
Me: Ooh! 100! I met him once in eighth grade on our Washington trip, he was very nice.
Guy: Okay... Dick Durbin.
Me: 100.
Guy: Michael Madigan.
Me: Um... is he related to Lisa Madigan?
Guy: Uh, I don't know.
Me: She used to have signs around... on the road...
It went on like that for some time.
Guy: If you had to vote right now, who would you vote for?
Me: Is there an option for having a mental breakdown in the voting booth and having to be taken to the hospital?
Guy: Uh... no, but you could say 'Undecided'.
Me: Well then what's the point of asking me the question?
Guy: I think it's just to see who you're leaning toward.
Me: It's a bad question. You should tell them that at your polling hideout.
Towards the end of the 30 minutes...
Me: (ending my entire life story) It's just confusing, you know, like I feel so conflicted all the time, because I don't want anyone to feel bad, and I just want everyone to hug and be friends and everything, and I really don't want to get disowned by my parents and/or grandparents, and sometimes things make me mad but I know I'm just being stupid, so really I don't even know if I should be allowed to vote, because I don't even read the news all that often, but that's because if I did, I'd never get anything done, and I would sit in the woods and cry all the time because of the futility of life.
Guy: (pauses to reflect on the poignancy of what I've just said) I... okay. It's a multiple choice question, so...
Me: (explodes)
Story of my life.
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