I enjoy a cocktail after work, OK, a couple, but not before 5pm. Today that rule was broken as I wandered into an old watering hole seeking refuge from the election from hell.
There is a woman in her late sixties who makes a habit of showing up at City Council meetings and saying things that don’t make much sense. Her usual outfit is high and tight shorts, and a small tee-shirt with no bra. She must have been very attractive four decades ago. In any case, this was my day-time bartender in a battleground state.
She was sporting an Obama button. Aargh.
Tonight to a contractor friend’s home to view the returns. In the interest of public safety, I’m bringing a sleeping bag. Signing out.