The Charlotte Observer website is running a notice at the top of the front page stating that they did another press run to help satisfy demand for today's paper, so I knew I couldn't wait around any longer. I had to tear myself away from my obsessive attachment to MSNBC and the laptop for long enough to bring home a souvenir from history.
After pulling up to three different gas stations to find them cleared out of newspapers (the guy working at the second one said the only copy they had was the one he'd saved for himself), I finally found one at the nearby Texaco station. Right by the door, I saw the rack with five or six copies sitting on it.
"You're the only place that has any!" I cheerfully told the the woman at the counter.
"That's only because we had to get some more," she said.
Two other people bought copies in between the time I picked mine up off the rack and the time I walked up to the register with my Cheerwine and Twix PB. (Hey, it's celebratory junk food, and I wanted to use my debit card for more than just 50 cents.) Everybody seemed happy about the results, which wasn't too surprising in this Democratic city.
As the woman was ringing up my purchases, we talked about how one daughter looks like Barack and the other looks like Michelle, and how you can already tell Malia's going to be tall like her mom and dad. "They're some pretty little girls," the woman said, and I agreed.
I've been cooped up in the apartment with the TV and the laptop on my special day off from work, so this was my first contact with anyone other than my significant other since the results came in. I walked out feeling buoyant and hopeful all over again. As I was writing this diary, it occurred to me why this might feel so significant to me: it's the first time I've been able to have a pleasant and positive conversation about my president (or soon-to-be-president) in this millennium, if you go by the "2001 was the first year of the new millennium" rule.