Old Times

So I called my old boss today. My Old old boss, not my old boss – the one who was at a press conference with my new boss this morning, and who would rather have no staffer than me as a staffer when all the staffers on her payroll were unavailable to take her to the event with my new boss, which may have to do with me but I bet has more to do with the fact that she was offended that none of her staffers were available for a last-minute staffing assignment. But that is another story.

This is the second time this week I talked to my Old old boss. The last time was when I asked for his endorsement, which he told me he was delighted to give, and said that my new boss, "is gonna win. She will be Mayor." That was unusual for my old boss, who excelled in passive voice. Although, now that I think about it, he once edited a letter for me (from him, obstensibly), and that letter was all about active voice. So perhaps it was my old office that excelled in passive voice. Again, another story.

This time, I called him up and asked, quite conversationally, how are you? To which he said, fine, and asked me how I was. And of course, I was fine.

I mean, what would you say?

So, all those niceties out of the way, I said, I’m calling about the part you like least about campaigning.

And he said, what?

And I said, I’m calling about the part of campaigning that you like the least.

There was a pause.

Money, he finally said.

Yes, I said.

Another pause.

How much is this going to cost me? he asked.

The maximum is $500, I said.

I’ll give you half that.

Okay. I’ll need a credit card number.

I don’t like to do that.

And then I explained that we were one hour from the deadline to accept contributions. And so, grudgingly, he consented.

There better not be any unauthorized charges in the near future, he said.

I assured him there would not, and that I would tear up the piece of paper with his number on it and throw it away into no less than three separate garbage cans.

I’ll need the number off the back, I reminded him.

That’s a number I really don’t like to give out.

But he gave it to me, and wished me well, and we parted ways.

Then I found out I needed his address. So I called again.

Hi, I said. It’s me again.

Okay, he said.

I need your address. The one associated with the credit card.

Oh boy. This was really something. He told me again that if there were any unauthorized charges, he would have to come after me.

In that case, I said, I would have to make some unauthorized charges. After all, that looked like the only way I would see him.

He laughed. And I got the address, and he wished me well again, and that was that.