Gloucester, MA is a strange place. A lot of times I feel as though my entire campaign situation is a very realistically written independent film.
Last night: I interviewed a potential campaign manager. He was great; we got along really well and laughed a lot. About an hour and a half into our “meeting” he casually mentions his active work in the Socialist Party and asked if this was a problem. I mouth said no-no, by my brain said yes-yes you fucking idiot. I then just played it off casually mentioning my Econ major and fake love of Milton Friedman and Ayn Rand.
Today Par I: One of our great, amazing, wealth and full of in-kind contributions volunteers stopped by. She apologized for having to leave in such a hurry, explaining she had not seen her daughter in almost two days. She listed a variety of activities and obligations she had been engaged in recently, one of which struck me as especially interesting. KC explained she had meant to get home earlier last night, but her parenting class ran long and her daughter was already asleep when she got there. At first, I just nodded and tried to look empathetic, but very quickly the absurdity hit me. She hadn’t seen her daughter in 2 days because she was taking a class on how to be a good parent. (Caveat: she actually does seem like a great mom based on other encounters).
Today Part II: One of our volunteers is VERY obnoxious, but seemingly harmless. While I cannot take being around him for more than a few minutes, he does not seem dangerous in any way. The same volunteer as above when visiting the office mentioned that she had heard from a few sources he may have a habit of stealing things. She proceeded to use the phrase “light-fingered” I believe. KC mentioned I might not want to give him keys to our office. Literally minutes after KC left, my candidate called and requested that, along with all the other things I didn’t have enough time to do, I should jaunt over to the hardware store and get a copy of keys cut for DG, the informally accused. I managed to artfully express the concerns of KC, while not seeming like an asshole or making KC seem like on.
Microwave: Our office is pretty acetic. It is one room and is mainly occupied by odds and ends furniture and boxes. Around lunchtime, as I enjoyed the culinary delight I had packed for myself (Mac and Cheese with a ground-up Boca burger mixed in), I lamented our lack of microwave. Every other campaign I visited has had a microwave and I have used many of them frequently. Due to our hilariously low funds, I quickly gave up on the idea of having one in the office. On the way back from my third (yes, third) trip to the coffee shop down the street, I noticed something right next to the stoop leading up to our office. It was a microwave (I shit you not). On the Microwave were signs. One said: “I Work and I’m Free” and another: “Working: Free to a Good Home.” So that has solved that problem. MIND FUCK