I had a simply awful day at work. Another deadline, another on-line application with ambiguous and professionally degrading instructions that are the ruination of philanthropic endeavor….long story. Another losing career battle in which I play General Custer. Nobody cares.
So imagine my relief when straight after work I head for the Liquor & Rubber Balls Sports Emporium and Javelin Catching Instruction Academy, only to walk into yet another political catfight among the lesbian patrons.
“You fucking liberals are all the same,” are the first words I hear.
It’s Cosmo again. I steer clear, and make eye contact with Don Tequila (bartending tonight), who draws me a cold pint of Grolsch. Cosmo is in somebody’s face — not a regular; I don’t recognize her but her grip on the neck of her Corona bottle raises flags — and evidently they’ve been at it for a while.
“You jumped all over Sarah Palin, didn’t you?” snarls Cosmo. “Unqualified. Inexperienced. Caribou Barbie doesn’t know her ass from a hole in the ice. Right?”
“Don’t leave out her parenting skills and primitive church,” smirks Corona.
“But you don’t see a goddam thing wrong with Sweet Caroline Kennedy waltzing into the Senate to replace Swillary Clinton. Never held office in her life, unless you count being born Princess of Camelot. No problem for you at all, uh-huh?”
“Caroline Kennedy was freakin BORN with more political sense than most lifers in Congress,” snaps Corona. “She’s been active locally, raised a ton of money for New York schools, worked behind the scenes for Obama and his transition team, and knows everybody worth knowing. Ain’t an American over 3o who doesn’t know who she is.”
“That’s all it takes to be senator from New York?” sneers Cosmo. “A celebrity? How about Joan Jett? At least she was born there! Godawmighty. All this shit about a heartbeat away and paying your dues and knowing the system right out the window when it comes to another cornholing Kennedy.”
I wonder (silently) if that’s true about the Kennedy’s. No wonder they’re popular in New England.
Corona swallows her beer. “I can’t believe you’d compare Sarah Palin’s leadership credentials with Caroline Kennedy’s,” she tells Cosmo. “Didn’t you see her bio?”
“Bio, cryo. If her name’s Pishmish Shame instead of Cunteddy, nobody knows who she is. Hey, if all they want is to keep the chromosome count the same, there’s plenty of ball-less Demo’s they can appoint. Like, any of ’em.”
“Bitch, if you weren’t half my size and twice as drunk…….”
That’s when Don Tequila wisely makes his presence known, and I go into my invisible act. Holy nipple clamps. Dems aren’t even in office yet and they’re alienating people left and right, slipping right back into piss-off-the-people mode with their pandering on one hand, and their tone-deaf politics on the other.
Wonder if Caroline Kennedy can field-dress a moose. Probably not. Maybe an intern. Well, it’s a start.