Jack
I don't know what I am doing here. I remember, being elected class president at St Ignatius, thinking that I was the luckiest kid around. Then, treasurer of my class at NYU, and chairman of the concert committee. Thinking, life didn 't get any better.
Here I am, waiting to find out if I'm going to continue as DA.
Lord, I wish it was 24 hours from now. I'd know. Am I still DA, or am I looking for another job?
I could teach. I could wangle a judgeship out of someone. I could become a defense attorney. There've been enough offers on the first and the last...
Connie started the day, by telling me she already voted, and for me. That I'm a shoo-in. I wish I could have her optimism. Mike also said he voted for me, and that he heard another voter tell one of my opponent's people outside the poll, "I'm voting for Jack, so don't waste your breath." That guy was dressed in dirty jeans, and a workshirt. And, Mike said he met up with a neighbor, a banker, who also said he was voting for me. So, according to Mike Cutter, I have the blue and white collar vote.
I put some time in at a few polling places. I didn't think Harlem would go for me, but judging by the comments and warmness of most of the voters, I've got Harlem. And Inwood. Although the latter could just be because of the fact that there is one less S&M parlor operating there.
I figured on the area around NYU. The polls have told me thats my strongest toehold in Manhatten. That, and Columbia. The Times says I'm a "blue collar intellectual." Whatever that is.
Noon. Exit polls have me leading by a hair. Thats how one tv station put it. A hair. Great. Just great. I wonder if I should call Nora, and tell her I'll be a law professor. I'll even start carrying a pipe.
I'm too nervous to eat. Connie and Ida, my two self appointed mommy's, tell me I should eat something, that I've had too much coffee this morning. I didn't know they kept count of how much coffee I drink.
Oh, God. Tonight, is an election day party at The Tribeca Grill. If I loose, this will be the single most embarrassing moment of my life. All those people, waiting to hear what I'm going to say, and how. What if I do win? What do I say then? How do I say it? Connie says I should be working on a victory speech. But, there's work to do here.
The new governor said on the noon news, that she supports me. She's from Rochester, too bad she can't vote for me.
Change suits. Try to look unrumpled. Jenny is already at the Grill, my ubiquitous "companion of the past two years." The Ledger has written countless lines on why we aren't married, or even living together. They think Jenny is for show...then they say, we are both too independant, too scarred by past relationships. They speculate on what the age differance between us has to do with anything.
In other words, we're both two time loosers at marriage.
Jenny knows how to handle these people. Always knows what to say, to put someone at ease, to give someone the hint that theyre being obnoxious. Connie is here, already a bit tipsy. I know, because she's giggling at everything. I wonder if she and Mike are....Mike is looking at her, a slight smile on his face, and in his eyes. Maybe he's just half in the bag too.
I don't dare start drinking, or I'll grab a bottle of scotch, and stick a straw in it.
Jenny is on my arm, fending off the hangers on, the ones who gush that I'm certain to win, and by a landslide. Even I can see, that those people are the ones who will be the first to hit me up for favors, should I win. Jenny has a 6th sense for ferreting them out. She steers me towards the ones who are a bit quiter, who stand like wall flowers on the outskirts of the party, in groups of 3 or 4. Powerful attornies, members of the Bar Review Committee, newspaper editors, police brass.
I see a few of them, the whoop-de-doos in the NYPD, whom I'd rather avoid. I see Anita Van Buren, and she calls me sugar. She's a bit tipsy too. Which is surprising, because she's drunk me under the table a few times.
The polls have closed. The news says, it appears I may have won, but its too close to call.
Great.
I wish Adam was here. I wish Lennie was here.
I wish Claire was here.
I don't know what I am doing here. I remember, being elected class president at St Ignatius, thinking that I was the luckiest kid around. Then, treasurer of my class at NYU, and chairman of the concert committee. Thinking, life didn 't get any better.
Here I am, waiting to find out if I'm going to continue as DA.
Lord, I wish it was 24 hours from now. I'd know. Am I still DA, or am I looking for another job?
I could teach. I could wangle a judgeship out of someone. I could become a defense attorney. There've been enough offers on the first and the last...
Connie started the day, by telling me she already voted, and for me. That I'm a shoo-in. I wish I could have her optimism. Mike also said he voted for me, and that he heard another voter tell one of my opponent's people outside the poll, "I'm voting for Jack, so don't waste your breath." That guy was dressed in dirty jeans, and a workshirt. And, Mike said he met up with a neighbor, a banker, who also said he was voting for me. So, according to Mike Cutter, I have the blue and white collar vote.
I put some time in at a few polling places. I didn't think Harlem would go for me, but judging by the comments and warmness of most of the voters, I've got Harlem. And Inwood. Although the latter could just be because of the fact that there is one less S&M parlor operating there.
I figured on the area around NYU. The polls have told me thats my strongest toehold in Manhatten. That, and Columbia. The Times says I'm a "blue collar intellectual." Whatever that is.
Noon. Exit polls have me leading by a hair. Thats how one tv station put it. A hair. Great. Just great. I wonder if I should call Nora, and tell her I'll be a law professor. I'll even start carrying a pipe.
I'm too nervous to eat. Connie and Ida, my two self appointed mommy's, tell me I should eat something, that I've had too much coffee this morning. I didn't know they kept count of how much coffee I drink.
Oh, God. Tonight, is an election day party at The Tribeca Grill. If I loose, this will be the single most embarrassing moment of my life. All those people, waiting to hear what I'm going to say, and how. What if I do win? What do I say then? How do I say it? Connie says I should be working on a victory speech. But, there's work to do here.
The new governor said on the noon news, that she supports me. She's from Rochester, too bad she can't vote for me.
Change suits. Try to look unrumpled. Jenny is already at the Grill, my ubiquitous "companion of the past two years." The Ledger has written countless lines on why we aren't married, or even living together. They think Jenny is for show...then they say, we are both too independant, too scarred by past relationships. They speculate on what the age differance between us has to do with anything.
In other words, we're both two time loosers at marriage.
Jenny knows how to handle these people. Always knows what to say, to put someone at ease, to give someone the hint that theyre being obnoxious. Connie is here, already a bit tipsy. I know, because she's giggling at everything. I wonder if she and Mike are....Mike is looking at her, a slight smile on his face, and in his eyes. Maybe he's just half in the bag too.
I don't dare start drinking, or I'll grab a bottle of scotch, and stick a straw in it.
Jenny is on my arm, fending off the hangers on, the ones who gush that I'm certain to win, and by a landslide. Even I can see, that those people are the ones who will be the first to hit me up for favors, should I win. Jenny has a 6th sense for ferreting them out. She steers me towards the ones who are a bit quiter, who stand like wall flowers on the outskirts of the party, in groups of 3 or 4. Powerful attornies, members of the Bar Review Committee, newspaper editors, police brass.
I see a few of them, the whoop-de-doos in the NYPD, whom I'd rather avoid. I see Anita Van Buren, and she calls me sugar. She's a bit tipsy too. Which is surprising, because she's drunk me under the table a few times.
The polls have closed. The news says, it appears I may have won, but its too close to call.
Great.
I wish Adam was here. I wish Lennie was here.
I wish Claire was here.
