My cell rang about 2 p.m. on Nov. 5, some three hours before election polls closed on the East Coast.
“What network are you watching tonight?” my friend asked. “I’m watching CNN. In fact, I put it on when I left for work this morning just in case I want to rewind anything when I get home.”
“I’m sure your dog appreciated that,” I replied before adding, “I’m not watching.”
“Seriously? But you’re such a news junkie.”
“I am,” I affirmed. “But I’m also a facts junkie.”
“What does that mean?”
I reminded her of the 2020 race where news anchors, so exhausted that they failed to check their hair during commercial breaks, called states for one candidate, only to reverse themselves minutes later.
“Furthermore, I’m a health junkie. Aren’t you?”
“Of course,” she said. “You know I’ve been eating healthier these past few months. In fact, I no longer have to take blood pressure medication.”
“Exactly,” I said. “But what do you think is going to happen to your blood pressure if you spend all night staring at an election map and it begins turning the color you weren’t expecting?”
“I’ll probably have a heart attack.”
“‘I hope that doesn’t happen,” I said. “But if it does, don’t call me. I won’t hear my phone.”
Election Night Means a Clean House
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll be vacuuming.”
“Excuse me? They’re saying we won’t know the results until possibly the next morning. You’re going to vacuum the entire time?”
“You haven’t been to my place lately.”
“Seriously, what else are you going to do?”
“Bathe.”
“Bathe as in ‘shower’?” she said. “Don’t you shower in the morning?”
“I do,” I affirmed. “But I’m going to take a long bath. Bathing ensures I won’t be tempted to look at results. I don’t have a TV in the bathroom and I’m certainly not going to check my phone while laying in water.”
“Didn’t you once drop your phone in the toilet?” she said.
“That was different,” I said. “The Cubs were in the World Series. I had to know the score.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
TikTok Will Not Be My Source of Election News
“Cook,” I said. “I saw this great chicken recipe on TikTok. I’m going to make it on election night.”
“But if you’re scrolling TikTok, you’re bound to see results,” she said.
“I’ve learned not to believe anything on TikTok that doesn’t involve an air fryer,” I said. “Just last week TikTok told me Ed Sheeran and Harry Styles were involved in a fatal car crash.”
“Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.”
“That’s what a lot of people are saying about the election,” I replied. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over to my place?”
“If you’re asking me to take a bath with you, the answer is, ‘no.’ And I’m not helping you clean your condo.”
“I could double the chicken recipe.”
“How about this? I’ll call you around 9 p.m. and we can talk about how things are going. All the polls will be closed by then,” she said.
“I’ll be asleep,” I replied.
She was flabbergasted. “You’re going to sleep before the majority of states are called?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “If my candidate wins, I can count on plenty of tranquil nights. If the other one triumphs, at least I had a final six to eight hours of uninterrupted shut eye before spending the next four years tossing and turning over the state of our country.”
“Guess I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said before hanging up.
The next morning, as promised, she called.
“How are you feeling today?” she asked.
“Clean, rested and full,” I said.
“Anything else?”
“Rich!”
“Rich as in financially rich?” she said. “How come?”
“Because I just took a second job as a night security guard.”
“You’ll have to stay awake all night.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be an issue. At least until 2028.”
