Wednesday night, the ladies decided to go to Pizzeria Uno, which I believe is the best pizza parlor around. I, on the other hand, put on a charcoal grey suit, white pinpoint shirt with french cuffs, gold and amber cuff links, and antique gold watch. Red tie with blue stripes. Stuck a Mont Blanc in my pocket, and went on a date.
Not a romantic date, and I have enough problems with matters of the heart already. It was a political debate.
I had never met this woman, though I have heard her name, and she must heard mine, she set up our encounter. It was at a typically dark steak house, where people put their heads together and speak in low tones. I was a little early, she a little late. Nothing about her face and body stood out, but it worked when put together. Not that I was tempter; I was not there for dalliance. Nor would Aisha approve, and the wrath of Aisha is terrible indeed. She takes pride in it. As well in her intelligence and as an accomplished slut.
My date was wearing a pants suit, but I knew she was a democrat. At least it was dark blue, not the loud, ugly suits worn by Hilllary Clinton. We shook hands, and sat. She had a glass of Merlot, and another. I had a glass of beer, and another. Then to soft drinks. In vino, veritas. Be cautious. We turned down an appetizer, and ordered salads. Then entrees, I had a rib eye, she a pepper steak. We hared a coconut cream pie for dessert.
Between ordering and eating, we talked. A lot, in low tones. She asked if I had chosen a candidate, and I told her, and why, as described below. She smiled for the first time. "You want to give us the middle? Fine, we'll take it."
"This is 1980 replayed. New vision and leadership is called for. The GOP moderate establishment needs to step aside."
"Tell me about Jeb Bush."
So I did, and explained why I thought he would not get the nomination. Specifically, I think he will do well early, but will fade as people get to know the other candidates.
She smiled again. "Good, I hope you are right. Bush terrifies me. He'd beat us, easily."
"What about Walker?"
"That campaign writes itself."
A great deal more information and opinions were exchanged. Before dessert arrived, we had both leaned back in our chairs, and were talking about the UK elections. We had come to the same conclusion, through different methods.
She gave me some things to think about, and I sure I did, as well.
I paid. I suppose that earned me the kiss on the cheek she gave me as we parted.