Each year my condo elects a few new members to their governing committee. My neighbor, also my co worker, asked me to consider running in the summer, and I said sure why not. And then I proceeded to forget all about it.
The other day, while minding my own business checking my mail, I am confronted with a large notice with my name in bold letters: announcing to all of the building that I was running for elections. I paused for a moment, reflecting on the little charge that ran to my body, first of horror, then of frenzied excitement. Is this how Obama feels every time he walks into a rally smattered with blue and white signs, his name everywhere.
But Alas my little high and feeling of being a selfless soul was soon brought back to reality. A smear campaign being led by one of the older fruits in the building, who is still upset over a little rowdy party I threw last year, (Talk about holding a grudge,) has been going around telling people that the new young tenant running for election is up to no good! I believe the word trouble has been peppered into many conversations along with the words irresponsible and untrustworthy. My dear readers this dottish fool has apparently been learning a thing or two from the McCain campaign.
Who is this nemesis? Her name is Dorothy; she’s stood for elections for the fast five years. Sadly due to her volatile nature, has never been let on and is bitter.
Thus all week I’ve been preparing my grand speech cleverly adding in phrases particularly reassuring to the elderly, arming myself for the inevitable confrontation.
And the worst part is, I’ve just realized that I’ve somehow committed myself to fighting with an old bag for the privilege of spending the next year in the company of seniors.
Perhaps this will count as part of my purgatory sentence?