Junior nodded slowly, thinking about it. "We can live with that." I raised an eyebrow the way he said it. "I've talked to Melissa about it. We thought we might get to run it. We just thought I'd be President and we'd make her the Executive VP, or something like that. We weren't expecting John to leave, at least not right away..."
"I'm still here, you know. I'm not dead yet.", interjected John drily.
Jake Junior gave him a raspberry, and then said, "Anyway, we've talked it over, and we can make this work. I really think we need to open an office out in Silicon Valley, now. You've been handling that end of the business, but I think we're going to have to hire a pro out there, maybe buy a small firm or something."
I nodded in agreement. "Okay, start putting out some feelers. Get Missy cranking through her Rolodex. Talk to Dave Marquardt. Maybe he'd be interested in a joint venture, or if not, can help with names. Like I said, this is all a big if, but if it goes right, then we need to have something in place by the end of the year, no later."
Melanie gave her fiancée a strange look. "I thought you said you worked at a brokerage."
He smiled. "No, I said an investment firm. And I do work there. Now, vote the Buckman ticket, so I can run it, too." He looked over at me and laughed. "You need a campaign contribution? Maybe something to push you over the top and move me into your office after you leave?"
"Funny, very funny!"
"Shut up, Carl! Take the check!", ordered Brew.
"Holy shit!", she muttered.
Chapter 102: The Westminster Diner
Wednesday, October 3, 1990
Political campaigns, at least in America, are designed to produce winners by wearing the participants down to a nub. The survivor gets elected. There comes a point where you have to wonder just how many hands can be shook, how many rubber chicken dinners do you have to eat, how many old people do you have to make nice to? It really helps to be rich, since doing all of those things and actually trying to earn a living are impossible. Early on you start wondering whether it's all worth it. You start saying there just has to be a better way to pick a government!
America made a big mistake way back when we revolted against the British. Most people think it was in allowing slavery, but considering that half the colonies were slave states, we'd never have broken loose fighting that battle, then. The big mistake was that in our desire to rid ourselves of all things British, we got rid of a parliamentary system of government, and saddled ourselves with the mess we have now. Most Europeans look at how we elect our government and shake their heads in disbelief. When they hold elections, they just announce them and then everybody has six or eight weeks to make their bets and vote. Congressional and Senate races in America go for about a year, and Presidential races typically run at least two years, regardless of what the rule books state. It's a miracle anything actually gets accomplished!
As you go through it, you really start thinking there has to be a better way to do things, because there can't possibly be a worse way!
Wednesday, October 3, was supposed to be a relatively normal day. It was a long day. I started out with a few hours over at the office, mostly answering and returning phone calls and emails. The Sun had sent Fletcher Donaldson out to trail me around for a day, a day-in-the-life type of exercise. Brew and I shrugged our shoulders. The Sun still hadn't gotten around to endorsing anybody and we didn't dare to chance pissing them off. The Sun is a Baltimore City paper, but it's read all across the state.
It was going to be a long day, with a radio interview in Westminster, two visits to old folks homes in Reisterstown (known as 'senile silos' in the business), a visit to a ladies book club in Taneytown, and then finishing up with a rubber chicken dinner and a speech at the American Legion hall in Westminster. Thursday and Friday I would get to repeat the process in Baltimore County. I just kept repeating to myself that I only had another month to go. We were still in a dead heat with Stewart.
Donaldson got to campaign headquarters mid-morning, and spent some time chatting with some worker bees. I got there about eleven. Then I took off with Donaldson riding with me. Brew had a cold and was under the weather, so it was just me. It shouldn't be a problem. By now I pretty much had the stump speech ingrained on my DNA, even with the changes we made from time to time to answer Stewart's latest nonsense. We had taken to using a line from the movie Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, which wouldn't be made for many more years to come. Whenever somebody started spouting something pro-Stewart and patently false about me, I would just hit back with, "I'll make you a deal. I'll stop telling the truth about Andy Stewart the same day he stops telling lies about me!"
In the meantime, you smile a lot, shake hands, and pray to God they remember to pull the lever next to the big 'R' on November 6, if they remember to get out of bed and go vote. There has to be a better way!
We finished up around 8:30 or so, and I just wanted to go home, but as we drove through Westminster I felt my stomach rumble. The rubber chicken dinner had been especially rubbery tonight, and I just pushed it around the plate some, all the while thanking them for my delicious meal. I began to wonder which circle of Hell I was going to end up in, and settled on the Eighth Circle, for Fraud. I only had one more to go before I was hopelessly doomed.
I saw a light up ahead, near the corner of Manchester and Baltimore, near the mall. "You hungry?", I asked Fletcher.
"Not really."
I smiled and shrugged at him. "Well, I need something to forget about that delicious chicken dinner. You can have coffee if you want."
"Sure, why not!"
I nodded and pulled into the diner's parking lot. It was getting late and it was after the evening rush. I had been here any number of times over the years. It's a nice place owned by a Greek immigrant and usually staffed by members of his innumerable family. We parked and went inside.
I held the door open for Fletcher and then followed him inside. At that hour there was a man at the cash register near the door, and I recognized him as the owner, Nick Papandreas, although he didn't recognize me. He greeted us and showed us to a booth about four down from the door, and said a waitress would be out in a moment. As we followed him, I noticed a woman, a young woman, sitting huddled up in the first booth inside the door, sipping a cup of coffee. We sat down, and it was just by chance that I had the seat facing the door, and Fletcher took the seat opposite me, so that his back was to the door.
A girl who looked like she was college age came out from the back of the restaurant and saw Nick pointing at us. She said something to him and smiled, and then grabbed a couple of menus. She approached and flashed a big smile at both of us. "Hi there, fellas! Can I start you off with some coffee?"
I smiled back. "Coffee for my friend, and I'd like some tea, please."
"Sweet tea?"
I shook my head. "Hot tea, please."
"Sure thing!" She gave us the menus and said, "Back in a jiffy!"
Fletcher twisted his head to watch her leave. "Cute kid."
"They're all cute at that age. I think I was born older than that.", I replied with a smile.