The Brain Curse

I stood in the darkness under the stanchions of the Key Bridge. The traffic rumbled over me; the Potomac lapping at my feet reminded me of this blonde dame I had met at Lucky’s the night before. What a mouth. There was a cold wind at my neck and then I saw him, just a shadow, coming towards me.

“I need some information,” he said. As he got closer, I could see he still dressed well. Suit. Tie. Hair blown dry.

“Why me?” I asked.

“I figure I can trust you.” He paused and I waited, making him sweat. “It’s hell over there,” he said, a quaver in his voice, “You can’t believe it.  No one says anything.  We walk around eyes ahead, ignoring everyone else. No reading, no writing, no talking. Ends up you have no idea what’s going on.”

I said: “Yeah, so what else is new, Senator?”

He said: “It’s all new. Back when I was first elected all we had was information.  People on the phone, email, meetings in the cloakroom.  Breakfast, lunch, dinner, parties, everyone in your face, telling you what they want, pushing their opinions, asking for changes. Now, I don’t know what they think. Hell, I don’t know what I think.”

I pulled out a stick of gum, carefully unwrapped it, stuck it in my mouth, and chewed. “So what do you need to know?”

“It’s the budget bill. There’s a provision in there…” he reached into his pocket, fumbled around and pulled out a piece of paper, squinting at it. “Section 2(g). Looks like it’s money for some day care centers, but I’m not sure…”

“And?” I said.

“I need to know how to vote.  Is this a good thing or bad? What should I do?”

“And you want me to tell you?” I asked.

“Yes, yes.” He was almost shouting. “That’s what you used to do, isn’t it? You were so good at it.  Always knew the arguments, helped me work my way through.” He paused and calmed down a bit.  “Please, tell me. Should I vote for it or against?”

I looked straight at him. “Sucker,” I said and gave a cough into the mike on my lapel.

Lights flashed on from overhead and there was the roar of machinery as a helicopter descended and cars screeched on the pavement. He backed away. “Oh my God!” he said. “It’s the Senate Ethics Committee.” He looked at me in a fury. “You sold me out!” he screamed. “Why?  Why?”

“Why?” I asked back, an edge to my voice.  “Because it was you who voted for the Federal Anti-Communication Act last year. You who voted for the Congressional Lobby-Free bill the year before. You who voted for the Abramoff Reforms in 2006. And all the while bragging about it, all the while trashing lobbyists, advocates, public policy professionals, hell, anyone who had an opinion -- me included.” I took a couple of chews on my gum. “Well, now it’s payback time, Senator.”

“No!” he wailed as they dragged him away. The lights went out, the cars left and I was alone in the silence. I stood still, the waves lapping at my feet. They reminded me again of the blonde.  Maybe I’d look her up.  I could use a good conversation.