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November 5th, 2024 – 7:05 P.M.
These tiny hotel bathrooms feel like a water closet. Janis opened her make-up case and checked herself in the mirror, admiring her own reflection. It’s five o’clock somewhere (here, specifically), so off with the blue blazer. Shoulder-length chestnut hair finally freed from the oppressive tight bun for the day’s sales meetings looked happier strewn loose across tanned shoulders. Good genes, expensive hair dye and early morning Peloton kept her at the top of her daily sales game.
A quick assessment concluded that this day might not be done.
She could venture out in the rental car, but this Hilton served food late, and the election returns would probably be on. How strange it felt for a Texan to be at the epicenter of a Presidential Election in rural Pennsylvania on the very night the direction of society would be decided. She strapped on higher heels, grabbed her laptop, and headed to the elevator.
*
The hotel pub had only two high tables, so she sat at the bar, centering herself by the television tuned to FOX News. Bret Baier and Marsha MacCallum were bracing the audience for the first wave of poll closings. She ordered a sidecar as the distracted bartender handed her a menu. There were PowerPoint details she’d clean up while sipping this particularly strong drink. Twenty years in electronics distribution had finally taken an energetic and driven salesperson out of college all the way to being a newly minted National Sales Manager. This roadshow would introduce her to various field sales offices likely staffed with a lot of underperformers. Janis hoped to find a few on this trip that reminded her of her younger self.
A quick glance at the crawl under the TV screen – Trump 27 – Harris 11
Janis turned from her laptop and noticed two guys at the end of the bar. Polo shirts and dockers, probably on business travel, bored silly. The nearer one, mid 50s, softer, kids maybe in college, a talker with uninteresting energy. His younger colleague, taller, leaner, probably not too far removed from college himself, a listener. And nicely built.
As she scrolled through her slides a final time and poked at a Cobb salad, she wondered if the flow of cocktails and election results might make the younger one linger. The bartender managed to unglue his eyes from the TV and moved her way. His choosing FOX over MSNBC suggested they were subconsciously aligned, but he seemed far more animated in his persuasions. She rarely failed to hold the close attention of males in this kind of setting. Tapping the edge of her empty glass, he nodded.
The East Coast polls had closed and a series of state races were being called. New York was a Democratic slam dunk. Florida, a reverse dunk of sorts.
Harris 57 – Trump 41
Older guy at the bar was suddenly gone, perhaps to the bathroom, or maybe off to bed.
Young stud was on his phone, tapping and scrolling. Janis sipped her second sidecar, the drink stronger than the first one, and waited. Was he texting a girl? Or maybe tracking sports or playing a game. Suddenly his blue eyes shot a glance her way and caught her staring, their eyes scanned each other fully in that microsecond. Janis didn’t disavow her stare, smiling back, tipping her glass, letting loose a guilty as charged expression. Young stud nodded pensively and returned to his phone, and then Janis felt the bartender’s big, beaming smile. FOX had just called North Carolina for Trump.
The Central Time zone polls were closing, and several more states were being called. Lots of little wins for the right. Illinois for the left. Like a football game nearing halftime, little ebbs and flows in the score that kept humanity breathless.
“Take us back to Pennsylvania!” bellowed the bartender.
“Seventy-two percent reporting… they showed it five minutes ago.” Janis offered. “Dead heat.”
“Oh, man I can’t take this shit all night. Shoot me now.” The young somebody groaned as he rose from his barstool and moved closer to the television, right next to Janis.
“Look, look, look,” the bartender pointed to the full screen color map of Pennsylvania. Small blue patches in the far corners and a sea of red everywhere else. Trump now led by 40,000 votes with several key suburban counties still to report. Janis read the young man’s handsome face, serious eyes, anguished expression, and smiled. “Get this progressive young man another of whatever he’s drinking. And I’m ready for one more.”
Popping the cap off a Yuengling, the bartender poured him a fresh glass, “Hate to break it to ya son, but you’re rootin’ for the wrong team.”
“I don’t think I can sleep until they call this thing.” He lifted the gifted beer and sipped.“ I just don’t get how we can possibly think he’s the guy.”
Everyone stared up at a smiling headshot of Donald Trump on the screen, with Missouri’s 10 electoral college votes now moving graphically into the red column.
“Finally we got a guy who tells all the liars how it really is.” The bartender poured himself a whiskey shot. “Sure he comes off a little rough. But we need that.” He picked up the shot and drank half of it, keeping his passions in check. “Settle in folks. I’ll keep us open ‘til they call it.” He winked, tickled by the enormous power that Scranton hotel bartenders/night managers possessed.
Janis closed her laptop. “So, what brings you to town?”
“Jacob, by the way, and thanks for the beer.” For the first time, the young man smiled. “I work for Dunder-Mifflin.”
“I’ve never heard of them. What sort of business is that?”
“Office supplies. Paper.” He laughed like a child. “I work for Michael Scott.”
Janis sipped her drink, the strongest of the three she’d been served. “Should I know what that means?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of The Office? It’s just something funny I say whenever we have to go to Scranton for work.”
His juvenile charm seemed refreshing from what Janis was used to on the road. The rest of him looked even better up close. “I’ll need to check that out on Hulu or something.” She hesitated, not wanting to appear old. “So you’re here frequently? Isn’t this Joe Biden territory? Must be a liberal sleepy hollow around here.”
“You’d be surprised at how conservative most of this state has become. I don’t get it.”
“Janis, by the way. I’m from Dallas. You’d be surprised at just how liberal that city has become, even in the heart of Texas.”
“My parents were both middle-of-the-road conservatives, like normal people.” She liked how he referred to his parents as conservative and normal. “They’d sometimes vote Democratic. But once this guy came along, gjeez, all they do now is sit around and watch FOX News and bitch about the border and illegal immigrants. There are so many more big problems society has to solve.”
“I agree with you.”
The strong drinks had put Janis in the mood to womansplain.
“The one big thing I think liberals don’t get is that government isn’t the answer to every problem. You know, for a really long time this country prospered like no other place in the world. And I’m convinced it was because we were pretty damn self-reliant. Everybody hustled, or they simply didn’t get anywhere in life.”
“So what exactly is your hustle, Janis?”
She flipped open her laptop, exposing her updated org chart. Jake stared for a few seconds at it. Her picture at the top of the sales organization tree was particularly fetching. It was exactly the way she wanted this young man to see her: a very good-looking business badass.
“Wow. Okay, now I see who I’m talking to. You’re a big kahuna there, huh? I use their website a lot. We order parts from you guys all the time. Great line card.”
They both looked up at the television. With 97 percent of Michigan reporting, FOX called it for Harris. Ten minutes prior they’d called Wisconsin for Trump. With Ted Cruz battling for his political life, Texas finally did come through for the ex-president, as expected.
“Well, look at the bright side, Jake.” Janis laughed out loud. “The rest of the country’s gonna get to look just like Detroit.”
*
The 10 o’clock poll closings brought a sea of red space into the final tally.
Colorado would also fall to the Republicans, but in a shocking development, Georgia defied all the odds, and the corrupt efforts of some conservative election officials, and managed to stay blue. Nevada was still a dead heat with another 15 percent still to report.
The bartender emerged from the backroom and set up three shot glasses, topping each off with his go-to whiskey. “Gettin’ close to the finish line, people. This one’s on the house.”
“What’s the latest on Pennsylvania?” Jake kept scrolling his phone for up-to-the-minute state returns. “Jesus! It’s literally a tie right now. Trump’s only 1,200 votes ahead. And of the last five counties not yet reporting, Lackawanna’s one of them.”
Janis picked up her shot glass. “Where’s that?”
Jake and the bartender said it together. “Here!”
“Okay then… to Lackawanna County. Gentlemen, we sit here getting drunk, literally on lection Night ground-zero.” She downed it in one quick swallow. “This is starting to get fun.”
*
As 11 o’clock turned to midnight, the resolution of each electoral mystery leveled the national pendulum to nearly even.
The entire blue West Coast brought a tilted map back into balance. And as Nevada went blue and Arizona turned red, the alcohol haze in which Jake and Janis found themselves started to blur reality. She found Jake smart and well-spoken on the issues so many liberals rail on about. Janis didn’t care much about guns. She attended a suburban megachurch because important movers in her circles did. She was past the point of personally caring about managing the reproductive parts of her own body. For Janis, it was really about keeping more of what she earned, which was now a significant sum. Living for today, and to hold the advantages she herself had earned, was no crime. And tonight, while she hoped her team would pull it out, it didn’t really matter much to her. She was enjoying this game. Young stud was loosening up. Her hand enjoyed exploring his thigh.
Trump 264 – Harris 257
“Last one, kids.” The bartender took their used shot glasses, set them in a row and topped them off for one last toast, spilling as much as filling. Clearly in the bag, he held up his glass and began to softly sing.
A long, long time ago
Jake recognized it and joined in. I can still remember how that music used to make me smile.
As they staggered through a horribly off-key rendition of “American Pie,” Janis tied off her tab and demurely checked at her watch. “It’s past my bedtime.” She signed the credit card slip and pulled Jake close.
She whispered into his ear. “Let’s take this party upstairs?”
*
Back in her water closet bathroom, Janis found getting her heels off was a challenge in the tight space, coupled with the major challenge of an unsteady equilibrium. Their kiss in the elevator made her want him even more. He seemed coherent enough, having switched to Pepsi to wash down those free shots. Her open blouse showed off a set of black, silky underwear she’d happily decided to wear. A quick shot of mouthwash and she was ready for the night’s dessert.
She opened the door and slipped barefoot into the room, but didn’t feel Jake’s presence.
The TV was turned on to CNN. Pennsylvania had just been called for Harris. America had just elected its first woman president. She found a note on the bed and a hotel pen.
Thanks for an enjoyable night
I’m not ready to give up
THERE’S STILL HOPE
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