The Trail
Some have what it takes to run a campaign.
Some don’t.
2:30 on Friday was a day away and approaching fast. I had been hired as a political consultant for a big shot yesterday and had been promoted to campaign manager the same day after an internal personnel scuffle. The target? Securing a spot on the Student Rep board, an exclusive elite office that gave students control over the school in an unprecedented way. For the first time in forever, one of us had a shot to have a voice, and my candidate wasn’t letting that chance go. Today she was working on her speech, the one she’d give in front of the entire school and make or break her vote. I OK’d some ideas but told her to scrap most of it, it was too wordy for our target demographic: the young vote.
Add a joke here, cut this part. Simple enough.
I went back to making deals with one of the union leaders for their endorsement to no avail. The campaign trail had been too long and the pressure was getting to me. The only solace I took was that my candidate did a lot of the work herself.
Friday was a political bonanza. You haven’t seen schmoozing if you didn’t see me that day. You wanted a tootsie roll for a vote? You bet I had a tootsie roll. Something else? You bet I had a tootsie roll. But this was all culminating to the big showdown: the speeches. Each candidate had to give one, and this was the time to shine.
We were the second to go, following the lock in for the first seat. That’s okay, we weren’t fighting for the first seat, we wanted the second seat on the Board.
The speech started out a little shaky, a little nervous and rambling, but that was okay everyone did. Quickly, she found her groove and started delivering strong points. I gave her the thumbs up sign and the cut sign we agreed upon. She wasn’t looking at me. She had hit her groove but had overstayed her mark. I looked around the room and saw apathetic face after another. It was okay. She had made good points, people clapped. I was still going to start my political career out 1-0. The next speech was given, and it was bad, and I smiled. Then the next one.
The fourth speech made the kids laugh. It hit me. My candidate had forgotten a joke. I knew we were dead in the water. It didn’t matter how long she went on about policy, if someone can make an emotional connection through laughter, that jokester will win 9 out of 10 times. I knew that, every good campaign manager knows that.
The vote was counted and my suspicions proved correct. I had been defeated. I was proud of my candidate, she didn’t take the loss looking for answers in the headlights of reality, but with dignity and grace. I packed up my stuff and thought about the next one, the next thrill to chase.
After all, life’s a game. You just have to know how to play it.