It’s not only the autumn weather that’s getting everybody frisky. Apparently, presidential elections get them hot & bothered too.
A friend just described voting with her boyfriend, in booths next to one another, and I couldn’t help but find it sweet. And somehow no one would be caught dead watching the results and speeches without a mate. The term “Election Date” is being thrown around, and suddenly I have that feeling I get before weddings and Valentine’s Day.
But there is something to all of this. The months leading up to the election are not unlike sleeping with someone special. You meet somebody, think about them non-stop, forget what their face looks like, tell everybody who listen how amazing they are, and then when you finally have sex, it’s a release of all that anxiety, whether the results are good or bad.
And maybe it’s a little romantic too. I can see the value in looking back 20 years from now and saying “You were conceived the night the Barack Obama was elected president.”
So, for the sake of my country and getting rid of that pit in my stomach, I’ve summoned my own very own Election Date.
