Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Secret Agent Man

I know what you're thinking. This post needs to get in line behind this post, this post and Part I of this post.

Don't think I'm not aware that we've been down this road before. But far more likely than my having accidentally married Mark Wahlberg, a one-third man, two-thirds wild animal mutant, or a superhero is the fact that I may have actually married a secret agent.

Last night, Sarah and I were sitting in my living room quietly discussing M-theory when there was a knock at the open screen door. I immediately assumed it was someone from our rental company come to confiscate the dog they're not supposed to know we have, but for the first time in recorded history, I was wrong.

It was some guy who's running for Colorado State Senator or House Representative or any number of other government positions about which I couldn't care less, and he asked for me by name. I honestly don't remember becoming a registered voter in Colorado, but apparently when I did it, I did it good, because this is at least the fourth time I have been solicited at my home by some democratic nominee or other begging for my vote.

Here's the deal. I'm all for politicians –

Wait. That came out wrong. Never mind.

Every time it's the same. They ring my doorbell and I reluctantly open it because I haven't washed my hair in five days and wasn't planning on having anyone see me in the light today. I awkwardly stand in the doorway so as not to let Brutus escape while the guy tells me that his name is Blah Blah and he's running for Colorado Blah Blah, and he's just stopping blah to blah blah blah and so can he count on my vote?

And every time I say, "Oh, absolutely!" because I'm sure this is the quickest way to get him off my porch, and three times out of four, I've been right, but this time – this time was different.

"Oh, before I go, I couldn't help but notice that you guys have got some prime advertising space here...would you mind if I put up one of my signs?"

Oh no. Think. Think think think. Whyyy can't you put up his sign? Because you're not a Democrat, that's why! Then again, you don't really consider yourself much of a Republican either, since the last person you voted for was George W. Bush, and look where that got you!

You were planning to vote for McCain in 2008, but SNL seemed so supportive of Obama, and when has SNL ever steered you wrong before? That Seth Meyers is just so gosh darn convincing! You were so upset and confused by this Demo-curious lapse in judgment that you deemed yourself unfit to vote at all. BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT! THE MAN NEEDS AN ANSWER!

Suddenly, my crazy-train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of a stealthy superspy who had been strategically placed in my house to protect me from just such a sticky situation and who looked remarkably like the man I married. I didn’t even hear him walk up behind me; one moment I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty, and the next, he was suddenly standing there, shiny and glorious and perfectly ready to come to my aid.

“Actually, this is a rental, and unfortunately they’ve told us that we are not to put up signs of any kind in the yard.”

I tried my best to look disappointed, smiled, and waved as the man retreated.

As soon as the door was closed, I rounded on Gary.

Me: Is that true???

Gary: No, that was just the best thing I could come up with.

Me: I think you could argue that that’s the best thing anyone could have come up with! You’re a genius! AND IT WORKED!

So now I’m choosing to be grateful for my husband’s heroics while trying not to be too disturbed by the ease with which he just lied to someone’s face.

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