Based On A True Story…
So today I did something I am certainly not proud of. I was picking up food at the Iron Town Diner in Saugus, Massachusetts. (Picture an IHOP that believes hiring a minority waitress is in bad taste.) As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed a rather large gathering of white people and immediately feared the worst. And although it wasn’t a pre-game for a mass shooting, my spidey senses were proven correct.
It was the Republican candidate for Taxachusetts Governor, MAGA Mike Minogue: the handsome billionaire businessman who plays a working-class-adjacent hero on television. The type of Republican who claims he’s been anti-Trump his whole life—since Labor Day. Anyhow, I made my way through the dozens of thirsty Massholes hoping to suckle from the teat of regional political fame. And as I came upon the door, I was face-to-face with a foot above MAGA Lite’s earhole, who, for no apparent reason, was totally cockblocking the only entrance.
“Everything was going well until Cockblockula showed up…“
Despite being well within his peripheral view, he continued to drone on and on about how he plans to ban books about trans sports or whatever propaganda right-wing carpetbaggers spew to slow adults. After allowing his ego ample time to get his over-the-pants starfucking and move out of my way, I decided to be the bigger man and just hit him with the door.
Now feeling like a triumphant passive-aggressive progressive, I turned down the hallway lined on both sides with hungry onlookers, whom I half-expected to give me a standing O. Or, at the very least, a slow clap into an all-out chant of U-S-A…U-S-A. But instead, I immediately smashed my knee on a bench so hard that they all gasped in unison. The collision was so jarring that one woman even clutched her Life Alert like a strand of pearls and contemplated alerting the authorities. I assume the only reason she didn’t was to gauge if she was reporting a leg amputation or the crazy person who threw a bench through a politician.
So, to calm her 117-year-old fears, I blurted out, “Well, thank God that was my good knee!” And then proceeded to the counter after retrieving the pride I found lying on the floor next to my kneecap.
That’s when I suddenly realized my GOP nemesis and his bodyguard were following me. At this point, I was embarrassed, apoplectic, and teetering on the edge of “I’m not crying, you’re crying.” So, like most rational humans, I said to myself, “I wish a motherfucker would!!” then braced for his security detail to confront me so I could speedbag his sack to my long-overdue ovation.
That’s when that politicking shitstick opened his lie hole and said the one thing he knew would piss me off: “Hey, good to see you.” Well, I don’t know if it was the combustible rage or his boyish good looks, but I must have short-circuited and blacked the fuck out. The craziest part of the whole story is that when I finally came to, I was already halfway home and had a raging boner…
…and that’s how I accidentally early-voted Republican
One thought on “Why You Should Never Hit A Republican Gubernatorial Candidate With A Door…”