An old man takes a seat on a bench. Immediately, he asks the woman next to him who she hopes will be the next president.
“Hopefully, none of them,” she says.
It’s a safe answer; Americans get as much mileage out of their blanket disdain for politicians, as politicians get out of the behavior that earns that disdain. It’s also a lie, and the old man intends to prove it.
“No,” he says “One of them is going to be the next president.”
“Ask me who I think it’s going to be.”
“Oh, fuck no!”
“That’s who it’s going to be, I’m telling you.”
“Then I’m bugging out. Bomb shelter, whole deal.”
“He’s the one; he was on Saturday Night Live.”
“No way. I have too much faith in the American people.”
“So you think it’ll be Hillary?”
They both agree: Hillary is meh. They also agree that the media is terrible, the money is a problem, and that things used to be better. But the old man intends to do something about it.
“I’m running too, you know?”
She didn’t know, but that’s not a problem.
“You got my vote.”
He thanks her, then goes silent without offering his name or a platform.
Apparently, Americans will vote for anyone.