The blathering idiot stood outside, behind a table with a few bumper stickers, buttons, and other items, including some holiday decorations. It was cool autumn morning. Leaves were falling. He could almost hear them. He turned toward Lydia at the table next to his. All three tables together formed a shallow U.
“Is this how it’s done?” he asked.
She smiled at him. “We are a small party with only a small name recognition. Until we become more well known, we won’t get the big money donors like the other parties have.”
The blathering idiot turned and looked at Xenia, his young assistant and the daughter of his off again, on again girlfriend. She was standing at a shorter table to his right. This was the fourth such event they had both been a part of this week. At none of the events did they seem to have much success.
She smiled at him, and then shrugged her shoulders. There were a few things on her table. She was actually selling more than he was.
He looked back at Lydia. “How much money do we have to raise today?”
“More than yesterday.”
“And how much did we raise yesterday?”
“Not enough.”
“That’s what you said yesterday when I asked about the day before.”
“And it was true then and it’s true now. These days, with outside groups being able to buy and run all kinds of ads on their own, campaigns need a lot of money just to get going, and to keep them going requires even more.”
“Like a corporate sponsor?” the blathering idiot asked.
“Not quite,” Lydia said.
“Like maybe we could get a sponsor to put their logo on the side of the campaign truck? ‘This campaign sponsored by Deep Fried Fritters,’” Xenia said. “’Deep fried fritters, just the thing to warm you up on a cool fall morning.’”
Xenia did her best to put an announcer’s voice into her mock advertisement.
“I don’t think that would fit on the side of the truck,” the blathering idiot said.
“And that’s not what this is about.” Lydia scowled at Xenia.
“Then what is this about?” the blathering idiot asked.
“It’s about name recognition,” Lydia said
“Then maybe we should sponsor something.”
“But we don’t have the money.”
“And that’s why we’re out here.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s why we’ve been doing this for four days?”
“Yes.”
“And how many more days will we be outside like this?” Xenia asked.
“Until we raise enough money,” Lydia said.
“To sponsor something?” the blathering idiot asked.
Lydia scowled at him. “The Pro-Accordion Party is already sponsoring you. This yard sale and all the other ones is about raising money to get you elected to the highest office in the land. Pro-Accordion members donated all this junk so you might get elected!”
Just then two people came through the gate into the yard. They heard the word junk, looked disappointed and even a little angry (The blathering idiot thought he saw a scowl forming on the man’s face.), immediately turned around and left.
“I guess he won’t be sponsoring us,” Xenia said.
This time Lydia glared at her.
Sometimes it’s hard to get the people who are selling to buy into what you are selling.
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