Elections, Part 4 (Full Circle)
Originally posted on October 23, 2005:
The ensuing weeks entailed a lot of suits, events, indigestion, kissing babies, photo opportunities, shaking hands with oba-san's, speeches, rough sex, polls research meetings, bank transactions, scolding interns, drinking,...and it all brings me back to the night of September 11th--the community center, the elevated, white-clothed table, the flickering flashbulbs, the applauding supporters, the self-congratulating suited jackasses. (An "oba-san" is a middle-aged woman.) To look at Kurachi-san's face, you wouldn't think he had spent the night before at the ICU with a whore who lost an eye--his panic even meriting a visit from Boss Takeda himself. Boss's fury was not traceable anywhere in his appearance, but his voice yielded a slight irritability, "Calm down, you horse's ass, and make her understand," he said while shoving an envelope full of the whore's hard-earned retirement money into Kurachi-san's jacket pocket. Kurachi-san was an apologetic mess. Boss Takeda made himself scarce soon after with nothing more than a sweet whisper to a random hospital staff member, "the whore doesn't have insurance"--the words had a sing-songy politeness. "I want the procedure to be on me." He pointed and darted an authoritative look at Kurachi-san, did his signature 30-degree bow back toward the staff member, and left.
The ensuing weeks entailed a lot of suits, events, indigestion, kissing babies, photo opportunities, shaking hands with oba-san's, speeches, rough sex, polls research meetings, bank transactions, scolding interns, drinking,...and it all brings me back to the night of September 11th--the community center, the elevated, white-clothed table, the flickering flashbulbs, the applauding supporters, the self-congratulating suited jackasses. (An "oba-san" is a middle-aged woman.) To look at Kurachi-san's face, you wouldn't think he had spent the night before at the ICU with a whore who lost an eye--his panic even meriting a visit from Boss Takeda himself. Boss's fury was not traceable anywhere in his appearance, but his voice yielded a slight irritability, "Calm down, you horse's ass, and make her understand," he said while shoving an envelope full of the whore's hard-earned retirement money into Kurachi-san's jacket pocket. Kurachi-san was an apologetic mess. Boss Takeda made himself scarce soon after with nothing more than a sweet whisper to a random hospital staff member, "the whore doesn't have insurance"--the words had a sing-songy politeness. "I want the procedure to be on me." He pointed and darted an authoritative look at Kurachi-san, did his signature 30-degree bow back toward the staff member, and left.