Good Signs

In the office, we have a whiteboard. The whiteboard has little squares, and the squares represent the volunteers we need. Each day we check off about 25 of the squares, but it’s a painful and arduous process, one that involves about fifteen phone calls for every one person who meets a specific set of criteria. Today we checked our email account for fresh volunteers. Our staff tends to talk aloud as they read these messages. A few days ago, I realized that one of my interns needs some time off:

“Hey, this guy used an exclamation point. That’s what I’m talkin’ about. He is ready to roll.”

Help Me! (and Your Future President)

Say, are you familiar with the Boston area? Are you over 21? Do you have a valid driver’s license? Are you sane? If so, fantastic. I need you — and your friends who are like you. I’m looking for volunteers to help the Kerry-Edwards campaign during the convention. It’s a big time commitment, but a cool opportunity. Email workforkerry@yahoo.com. Leave us your phone number, and we’ll give you a call.

Pet Names

Scenario: I’m talking with my boss in her office. Her boss enters:

Him: Can you finish this list by tomorrow?

Her: Whatever you need, boss.

Him: Say, that’s a first!

Me: That’s what you like to hear, huh?

Him: (to her) Great, then I’ll just… (turns to me with a perplexed look) Did you just call me Happy Bear?

Me: Happy Bear? No, I said… (long pause) Actually, yes. I absolutely just called you Happy Bear.

Her: At least, that’s what we’re calling you from now on.

Sign it, Hillary Duff

In the early mornings, it’s quiet except for the drone of CNN humming from dozens of TVs around the convention office. There’s one in the lobby, one in every break room, one in the open space where our campaign staff lives, and a few more scattered around the floor. I’m currently resisting the impulse to change all of them to “MTV Video Wake-Up.”

It’s possible the fourteen-hour days are adversely affecting my sense of humor.

Travel Advice

So, if you go to double check the time your flight leaves, because you’re flying home to be a bridesmaid in your high school friend’s wedding, and it turns out that your flight leaves two hours before you thought it did, and you haven’t packed, and you’re across town from your suitcase, and you have no cash for a cab ride home, and you tear through your bag in the elevator to find your ATM card, don’t drop your ATM card down the elevator shaft. That’s inconvenient.

Pens, Swords

In addition to fine pirate supplies, 826 Valencia is offering adult workshops. (Unfortunately less kinky than they sound.) If you’re a writer, or you want to be, these workshops can help. Also, your cash goes toward teaching little kids how to write, which will set you aglow with goodwill.

Open Letter

Dear Boston,

Why are you walking so close to me? It’s just you, and me, and this vast stretch of lonely sidewalk that empties into the horizon. I have my dance space, you have your dance space, and yet you’re always all up in my dance space, Boston. What it is with you? You are walking faster than me, it’s true, but there’s plenty of room for you to pass me. Six feet or more in which to pass. The width of a small football field in which to pass.

And yet, here you are again, half a foot behind me. I cannot see you, though I can feel your hot breath on the back of my neck. Common sense tells me that no one walks this close, in my blind spot, on a virtually empty sidewalk, unless he or she is about to take my purse. But when I stop and turn to the side, forcing you to pass, it startles you. It turns out you were just plodding along, innocently, mere inches from my spine.

I know you don’t mean any harm, and you seem like such a nice city, and you obviously have no designs on my purse, but please stop it. You’re creeping me out.

Sincerely,
Maggie

Democracy in Action

After work, we head out for dinner. Conversation turns to the convention.

Pal 1: Who do you want for VP?

Pal 2: My money’s on Edwards.

Pal 3: Yeah. But you know what bugs me about Edwards? He bends at the wrist when he’s making a fist.

P1: What?

P3: You know, when he makes a fist to make a point? His wrist bends back. It looks weird. Like he’s trying to make this strong point, and his wrists are all bent. Little thing, I know.

P1: But this is how people think.

P2: I would want him to lead our country, but…

P1: …he does that freaky thing with his wrists.