WHICH PARTY?

Don’t say anti. You’ll be put on a list.

Well, my wife and I went and voted. She voted for Trump, on the basis that he is better than Cruz, and I voted for “Uncommitted” because no candidate on that list is worth selecting.

We grabbed a bite to eat, and went to swing by our favorite bar in town on the way back home. We knew heading there that the same Berniebabies as last time would be present, they had been advertising a victory party all week to be hosted there when Bernie “inevitably” won by a landslide.

I’m a little under the weather and really didn’t feel like communicating with anyone, so I grabbed my drink and positioned myself at the other end of the bar, as physically removed from their festivities as possible while still being in eyeshot of the bartender.

As I nursed my drink, I found my attention continuously roving away from my Calvin and Hobbes book, and towards the gathered Cult of Bernie-ality. Ticker tape festooned the walls, and Bernie sanders T-shirts, and other apparel were everywhere. As were a large number of empty drinks.

What was missing was any of the triumphant jubilation one would normally assign a victory party. Instead, they sat there with slumped shoulders, and dejected looks on their faces. An obvious ring-leader was trying to force enthusiasm, but the rest could only nod mutely along.

Luckily for me, my bladder was full and they were near the bathroom, so I finished off my drink and mosey’d my fat ass past the bar and over to the head so I could kill two birds with one rank piss: make room for more alcohol, and figure out what cat had their tongue.

As I’m passing them I make eye contact with a young couple, and realized they were the same ones my wife had been patiently speaking to just about a week ago. The husband gave me a polite nod, and his wife gave me a surprisingly warm “hello”….judging by her expression she was honestly happy to see me and my wife there. An odd reaction, that. Anyhoo, as I strode past their little camp I caught snippits of conversation, most notably “losing Florida….badly”.

Ah, I hadn’t bothered checking primary results, as I figured it could wait until we got back home. They were losing, and were sad, mystery solved!

I did my business, went back to my seat, and pulled out my phone to check the results. Sure enough, Sanders was losing….but man, not just losing, but taking a beating. Shaking my head, I went back to my drinking and Calving and Hobbesing, resolved to give the matter no more thought that night.

Still, my attention kept wandering back to that group at the end of the bar. They had gained in numbers, but dwindled in decibels. Conversation had almost entirely ended, and they were all just sitting and staring at assorted iGadgets.

I furrowed my brow as only one of North European descent can do, and turned my sluggish brain towards these most recent developments.

Eventually it dawned on me, they had really, truly, believed that they were untouchably right. That by screaming from the rooftops they were right, and haranguing all dissenters they would rally all to their banner and sweep the nation in sweet sweet socialism.

Completely bereft of wisdom, or logic, these young fools had completely bought into the message that life should be easy, and they if their lives aren’t easy, well its because of someone else’s doing, not their own.

I was really worried, you know? I realize we are all subject to our own confirmation bias, and echo chambers, but as far as I could tell Sanders would stick things out for the long haul, I thought he would hold his own in Ohio and barely lose Florida.

Had Sanders got elected it would have escalated my own personal life plans by almost a decade, as his policies would immediately begin destroying my hard work, and force me to take immediate action.

Instead, he failed spectacularly, wasting millions of dollars from people who frequently can’t make next month’s rent, let alone afford to donate to a political campaign.

I ended up sitting and pondering the situation most of the time at the bar, until my wife grabbed me and said “its time to go.” As we said our goodbyes, one of the owners of the bar leaned over and gave my wife a hug, and said “I’m so sorry about what happened last week, that was such bullshit. The regulars are good people, they just want something to believe in, but those assholes from [Bernie’s] campaign can go to hell.” That really meant a lot to us, as last week really fired my wife up, and while I enjoyed the conversation, ultimately at the bar I just want to socialize and drink, not deal with stupidity. The husband/wife team that runs the bar skews blue, but it was nice to get an apology.

I held the door open for my wife, and surveyed the room one last time before heading out into the night. As the door swung close behind me, I caught a glimpse of the lady from last week, sadness stamped all over her face.

Last week my wife and I had killed her socialist dream with a single conversation, and we were leaving its Wake. Bernie will continue to stumble along, but the funeral in remembrance of his campaign won’t be held until he officially drops out of the race.

They are still followers, through and through, but I think this loss has aged these little lambs, who are coming in to their own as full fledged sheep.

I doubt my wife and I changed their minds, but based on the looks we got last night, our conversation last week was still in their thoughts, thats got to count for something, right?