So I work for ...
... well, there's no other way to say this, really.
I work for a trophy wife. Seriously, I do.
She is one of the singularly sweetest and dumbest people I have ever met in my entire lifetime. Keep in mind, I've been on this earth for 43+ years by now, so I know my way around this planet. I'm cool like that.
This woman is not part of my social, or intellectual (or any other kind of) circle. She's just one of those people who isn't deep. Like, not at all.
No, honestly. I swear to God. Her version of "deep" is what to have for dinner. I've known this chick for two-plus years, and the only thing I can tell you about her for certain is
1) she excels at "keeping the peace", as if that's some kind of Yearly Award Ceremony; and
2) she has NO FUCKING IDEA what the hell is going on in the USA in 2012. The only things she hears about America right now are incorrect tidbits of data she garners from the filter of her Ron Paul-voting/tax dodging husband.
Right, so. I work at their multi-million dollar home/palatial estate a few days per week. (I work from home 3x per week, but I have to go in at least a few days per week, because that is just the way it is. I need a job, they love the shit out of my OCD-ness, it's win-win. If I didn't despise them so much as individuals, it would be fucking ideal!)
But I digress. Anyway.
I am the Office Manager at this place. And please don't ask me WHICH PLACE?!, because I fucking won't tell you! (I don't want to brag, and I also don't want to lose my job.)
(Wait a second. Hold up.)
(I just don't want to lose my job, honestly. I don't give a shit about bragging, yo.)
Yeah. OK, sure.
Because Colorado is one of them there "swing states", we have attracted both the Obama and Romney campaigns to us, like white on rice. Dude! Either/or are consistently shutting down highways and shit. Like, man, all the damned time! It is mucho annoying, but I mostly don't care (unless I am directly affected by the highway closings). I am able to get tickets to see Obama around or near me anytime I want, but I don't have time, and I can totally say that I don't really care so much anymore.
Back when Barack Obama spoke for the first time, nationally in 2004, I changed my e-mail address to (I swear to GOD, people! not even kidding here!) firstname.lastname@example.org.. I'm not sure if that thing is active anymore; feel free to try it and report back.
I loved Barack Obama, as a candidate and a human being and the very theory of him so much in 2008, that I didn't really consider what he could be like as POTUS in real life. Barack Obama is a centrist; and, because of the damage to our country that George W. Bush did, I didn't want to believe that at the time.
So I simply didn't. I didn't believe it. I thought, and truly believed, that Barack Obama was a leftist. Even though I was desperate (at the time) for this kind of governmental leftism, that we sorely needed and I personally wanted, I was willing to make up every single effing excuse in the book to explain the way Senator Barack Obama acted that was explained away when he became President Barack Obama.
Talk about cognitive dissonance!
Anyway. Yeah. The part of this story that you haven't heard yet is below and suff.
Although I am not exactly known as an ardent Obama Supporter at work right now (or these days -- or, at all), I am known as a passive Obama supporter.
So when my boss' husband found/came upon some "ROMNEY/RYAN" yard signs about a month ago, he put them in their yard ...
... just to piss me off. No, seriously. Really. The guy told me this outright. I can't say that I was surprised.
Thankfully, the Libertarian-Lover and the Trophy Wife have raised some fairly good kids, who think Mitt Romney sucks dog shit. So, everyday, the triplets (they have 3 10-year-olds who can't stand their parents' individual politics) pull the Romney/Ryan yard signs and hide 'em somewhere where their dad can't find 'em.
Unfortunately, Libertarian-Lover finds these signs on a daily basis, and places them back into the yard, to either piss me off ... or sincerely assert how they feel about the presidential candidates in 2012.
Shocker, I know!
They have given the older son (the 18-year-old) carte blanche to pull the signs from the yard/complain about them as much as possible.
Today, the Trophy Wife informs me that she and her 18-year-old son will go to the polls to vote on November 6th. I was excited, honestly! I figured, OH HELLZ YEAH!!!!! SOMEBODY has to vote for the Democrat here, Crazy Rich Fucking Weird People!
The 18-year-old son will vote for Obama on 11/6. The one who is addicted to E, and Coke, and Pot, and possibly Meth (we're not sure yet!), and other things (shrooms?), possibly.
But, worst of all, the Trophy Wife knows who I am and what I'm about. She knows that going to Chick-fil-A hurts me emotionally. She knows that I have had a lesbian relationship for 4 years, and she is simply ignoring that relationship right now with her presidential vote.
I'm pissed about this, honestly. 2 years is a long to get to know someone (even a non-deep, flippant Trophy Wife), and to have them not even believe that you are worthy of Equal Rights in 2012 ...
That makes me sad. It makes me really, really sad. It also makes me plan to attain a job at a company closer to me (physically) than the one I am talking about presently.
But the Trophy Wife told me today that she's voting for Mitt Romney. In order to back that insane shit up, she told me, "Shiz, I just don't know other people who would vote for Romney over Obama here. Small business owners, by and large, endorse Mitt Romney."
I stared at the woman for a solid minute.
I have no fucking idea where she is getting her (false!) information these days, but I suspect that they come from her Ron Paul-leaning hubby, and her extremely ill-informed friends in her Palatial Estate community.
In the meantime, although I will most certainly not be doing recruiting and volunteering for Barack Obama in 2012, I can understand why someone else would do this. It's better for the country than Romney '12.
I worked about 10 hours today. I gotta go to bed.
Please tell me ya got me. Please tell me that you understand; that you have figured out how to explain this shit to the rich with palatial, annoying, big-as-fuck estates.