2-05-08, 10:02 am

In a city of 100,000 people, you can call 300 each night. You'll talk to a dozen. Maybe one will commit to voting for your guy. The people of this city will grow to hate your voice, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it.

The thing about 'Senior Calls,' is that people can say whatever they want. They can screw with you in the cruelest ways, and you can't say a thing. They can tell you that 'No, Roger isn't home, because he's dead.' Roger probably is dead, but maybe not. Maybe you hear him talking in the background, telling her not to give him the phone. But you can't say anything, except, 'I'm so sorry. Do you know who you're supporting in the primary?' When she hangs up, just check the 'Deceased' box and keep calling. Rumor is, you have a quota to fill if you want to keep the internship.

Another woman will answer the phone thinking you are her dead husband.

Ring. Ring. 'Daryl?' She answers with alarm.

'No, is Daryl home?'

'Daryl's dead.'

'But—' A million questions run through your mind. You just say, 'I'm sorry. Do you know who you're supporting in the primary?'

A sob. Click.

You can try to recount this story to someone who gets paid, maybe they will think it is unique and recommend you to the person in charge of hiring. But most likely, they've made that same call.

You go back to your work station and think about your grandfather. He died six months ago. You shudder as you think about your grandmother answering the phone and explaining his death to a low-life political intern. Maybe you should call the city back home and ask them to change the voting records. Maybe you should be a little bit more sympathetic to the women who tell you their husbands are dead. Maybe you shouldn't call old people in the first place, because even if they aren't dead, and they say they are, you're going to feel awful for asking.

Or, keep calling. Keep asking. And when they keep turning up dead, keep asking the widows who they are voting for. This is about changing the face of politics. Buck up. We are changing things for the better and trying to get our guy elected. This is a very important city in a very important state. You are part of a larger network. So call, call, call. This might mean enraging voters, but by the end, they'll see your pestilence as a reason to vote for our candidate.

You pick up the phone and begin to dial. You'd give your summer stipend to bring all of these people back to life. But what would a widow do with a sixty dollar gas card?