The blathering idiot saw Lydia enter the room where he was being schooled by the consultant and was relieved when she walked up to them and asked to speak to the blathering idiot alone for a few minutes.
Even the consultant appeared eager to give her that time. He leapt up from his chair and was tripping the light fantastic as he stepped out of the room. Or so it appeared to the blathering idiot.
“How goes it?” Lydia asked.
The blathering idiot shrugged. “Seems like I gotta play dumb to get elected.”
“Surveys show time and time again that people want to elect somebody just like them.”
“Then why don’t those people run for office?”
Lydia smiled and then laughed. “You do have a way about you.”
“And what does that mean?”
She sat down in the chair the consultant had been sitting in. She placed a hand on his knee. She looked directly at him and he at her. He thought maybe this was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment when she would ask him what he was doing tonight, would he like to come over for a home cooked meal and they could discuss campaign strategy and other things.
He half closed his eyes in dreamy anticipation.
Instead, she said, “Let’s just say you’re weird, but in an endearing sort of way, and that’s what we need to capitalize on in this campaign.”
The blathering idiot opened his eyes wide. Weird? Endearing? How did that stack up with being someone just like everyone else? Would you want to have a beer with somebody weird but endearing?
He thought about that last question for a minute. Would he have dinner with somebody weird, but endearing?
“Here, let me show you something,” Lydia said.
She stood up and offered her hand. He took it and followed her out of the room, out of the building. Once outside she led him over to a vehicle.
“Our budget is tight, but we got what we could afford, within the consultant’s guidelines, for your official campaign vehicle.”
“It’s … it’s a … truck,” the blathering idiot said.
“Not just any truck,” Lydia said.
“Yeah, it’s an old truck.”
“Politicians have traveled on trains, in cars, even in trucks before when campaigning. We thought this truck would speak of a connection to the past of this great country, add a sense of history to our young Pro-Accordion Party.”
“Will it make it? After all, it looks pretty well used … and rusted in spots.”
“That’s the other beauty of it,” she said. “That patina of wear gives us that underdog touch, that little engine that could meme.”
“Meme?” the blathering idiot asked.
“I’ll explain later.”
The blathering idiot nodded, but he doubted the explanation would be over a homemade dinner.
Campaigning on a budget: the blathering idiot’s official campaign wheels.
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