Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
I nodded.
“Yeah, there’s nothing like some real world experience. Don’t worry honey. I started out selling popcorn and drinks at Yankee Stadium for four bucks a pop, so we both have humble beginnings. It was a tough job but I wasn’t too proud to do it.”
She pulled back, staring at me with wide eyes.
“You were the concessions guy?” she asked disbelievingly. “The one with the huge tray in front of him, with a strap around his neck selling popcorn and peanuts?”
“Yep,” I said dryly. “Except I wasn’t even a man yet. I was a boy, scrounging around to make a buck any way I could.”
She shook her head, eyes wide.
“I never would have guessed because look where you are now,” she said breathily. “You’re President Carter. Literally, the most powerful man in the world.”
I shrugged, smiling wryly.
“Yeah, but everyone has to start from somewhere, and selling concessions at Yankee Stadium was my start. Not bad for a poor boy from the Brooklyn projects,” I said wryly. “Because trust me, where I’m from, most of those guys end up dead.”
She flushed again, eyes wide.
“But how’d you get to where you are now?” she asked. “I mean, I read your wiki bio, but it didn’t say too much about overcoming obstacles and whatnot.”
I nodded.
“Oh yeah, those things are cleaned up by our PR people to make sure it’s standard corporate speak. Nothing that could damage the campaign, much less our political platform. So yeah, they kind of highlight the good parts and downplay the bad. But the truth is that I’m from a terrible neighborhood, which I understand is gentrified now. Back then, Bed-Stuy was terrible, with the sounds of gunfire at night.”
She nodded knowingly.
“I think Bedford-Stuyvesant is known for its hipster bars and cool cafes now,” were her wry words.
“Exactly,” I rumbled. “Shows how times change.”
Bridget laughed again, cuddling closer to me.
“So tell me about your boyhood in Bed-Stuy,” she invited in a soft voice, turning big eyes towards me. “I’d love to hear.”
And I cuddled her close before speaking again. Because this was a nice change. Usually, I don’t have time for this. I fuck whomever Gold Medallion sends over, and then call a car (or helicopter) so that they can be on their way. But with Bridget, it was different. It felt right to sit here with her creamy form in my lap, telling her about my childhood. It felt right to recount the good and the bad, and how sometimes I wished I’d never been elected president.
“You don’t like your position?” she asked, her brow furrowed. “But why?”
I shrugged.
“There are so many reasons,” I said. “Not having a private life, for one,” I added. “Being in the spotlight if I so much as sneeze.”
She nodded slowly.
“But surely, there’s some upside to it all?” she asked slowly. “You must like some parts at least.”
I nodded, holding her even tighter. We’d been talking for two hours now, and the time had flown.
“Sure, there are some good parts. But trust me, the charter flights and fine dining get old after you’ve been at it long enough. I’d much prefer a quiet life with my best girl, and a family to boot.”
Bridget grew silent then. I looked down at her, jiggling that curvy form a bit.
“Are you disappointed?” I asked slowly. “To hear that your Commander in Chief is more than a little disappointed with his job?”
She took a deep breath before turning wide brown eyes to me.
“No, it’s not disappointing,” she said slowly. “It’s just surprising. I mean, I guess I never thought about it from your point of view,” she said. “I just always thought that it was your life ambition to be President, and now that you’ve achieved it, there are only good things, right?”
I shook my head, entranced by her innocence.
“It wasn’t quite my life’s ambition,” I said slowly. “Well it was, but also it wasn’t. Some things are just partly chance,” I shrugged. “My party needed a candidate for a state race decades ago, and I was young and hungry back then. I ran, and I won. Then the party kept pushing me higher and higher, and before I knew it, I was here.”
She shot me an odd look.
“So it’s really the party running things, and not any specific individual,” she said slowly. “But you’re the party’s leader right?”
I nodded.
“I am, but all candidates are symbolic in some way. We represent what the party wants at a certain point in time, espousing their views and representing their needs and interests. But ultimately, it’s the party elders who are guiding our platform because in four years, I’m out,” I said wryly. “I’ll have served my two terms, and it’s sayonara after that.”
Bridget nodded, just thinking, and I loved her for that. Because the woman was clearly intelligent and interested, and that’s something she had going for her. This was no floozy, too dumb to talk with me about my career and current events. The brunette was sharp as a tack, but she was new to politics, and I appreciated that. Balance in life can be good, and after twenty years campaigning, the brunette was a fresh breath of air.