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.”