I woke up before the alarm went off as my old dog Jane
started to growl. That low rumbling from deep in her throat let me know she was
not happy to be disturbed, especially if she wasn’t ready to get up and go out
just yet. There was no real warning in that growl until I gasped at the shadow
of a person in my window. When I turned on the light I saw the candidate John
Ellis Bramble standing just outside the window.
Now I had to get up. Jane was excited and barking at my startled
reaction of seeing the potential Presidential candidate standing outside my
bedroom window.
“What are you doing?” I half yelled as though I had just
caught someone rummaging in my purse.
“I’d like to talk with you about something. May I come in?”
he politely asked as if a presidential candidate stops by a person’s house
every day at the crack of dawn.
“What?, What is it you want,” I demanded.
“I said that I’d like to talk with you about something, something
important regarding my bid to run for election. Please, I won’t take much of
your time. I know you’ll be getting ready for work soon and I wouldn’t want to
cause you to be late.”
My first thought was that I had to be dreaming. The dog’s
barking reminded me that this was really happening. The dog, at the very least,
seemed happy to see our visitor.
What else was there to do? I let him in. “Meet me around the
back door, I have to let Jane out.”
As the dog went out and candidate Bramble came in, he pet
and rubbed Jane’s ears, “Howyoudoin’, girl”, he cooed to the mutt. I motioned for him to sit at the kitchen table
and shut the door behind the dog’s exit.
I still felt like this was a surreal dream, and then he said, “I’d like
you to take your blog down.”
“Excuse me?” I said. “You want me to do what?”
“Your blog is causing me more heartburn than MSNBC and the
Huffington Post combined. Our campaign
can’t manage the fallout from your postings and I’m close, really close to positioning
a winning spot in the election. I really, really need for you to take down your
blog. Please?” He almost sounded like begging, but not quite.
I sat back, folding my arms and said, “No.” I was wide awake
now.
“Come on”, he whined. You and I both know it’s not my platform or
agenda, that you’re against. The issues don’t have anything to do with your
blog posts.” He crossed and uncrossed his legs, shifting in his seat. I have to
admit I enjoyed his discomfort. I especially enjoyed the fact that he had shown
up, hat in hand, so to speak, and was asking a favor from me of all people.
“I’ll think about it,” I said. Then I tilted my head as if
in thought for a few seconds and sighed and said, “I’ve thought about it. The
answer is still no. Now leave before I call your wife and tell her you were
here.”
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