Me: (putting a box of books in the trunk of my car, in the parking lot at my office)
Him: (older, 60 maybe, dressed in very nice, very European-looking attire, carrying briefcase) (noting my Obama bumper sticker) How’s that hope and change working out for ya?
Me: (smiling) What?
Him: I said how’s that hope and change working out for you.
Me: (laughing) Are you really asking, or just trying to pick a…conversation?
Him: No, I’m really asking. How’s everything? How’s business?
Me: Business is good. I’m self employed, so…
Him: So am I.
Me: (laughing) Hey, what was the alternative? Sarah Palin?
Him: (laughing) She wasn’t even running for president.
Me: (laughing) But John McCain, you know, not in the best of health…
Him: (no longer laughing) I’d rather have a dead president than the one we have now.
Me: (smiling)(thinking: oh no)(starting to walk away)
Him: He’s just not the leader he was cracked up to be.
Me: (turning) Yeah, there have been disappointments. But there have been disappointments with every president.
Him: He’s bankrupting the country.
Me: (smiling) (thinking: up to you to finish this conversation, dude)
Him: (turning to his car) Well, it’ll all work out.
Me: (ten minutes later, thinking….) Yes, it will. It always does. One way or another. And I don’t put my faith in the government, so nothing is really a surprise or a letdown. He works in my building; I should have asked him his name, told him mine. Made a connection with someone who seemed to be trying to antagonize me. That’s what hope and change would have looked like.





