Lick The Vote

There is hope for democracy.

&nbsp

I went to Meshuggah to get some coffee this afternoon. On my way in this chick yells at me…

 

Chick: Hey man, are you a registered voter?

Me: Did you just call me, ma’am?

Chick: No, I said hey man.

 

So this chick has a voter registration table set up in front of Meshuggah. Now close your eyes and picture a girl sitting in front of a coffee house doing voter registration. Go, on, picture her. I’ll wait…

 

What did you see? Birkenstocks, black plastic frame eyeglasses, hair pulled back in to a braid, no make-up?  No. This chick looked and acted just like a Hollywood agent. She was wearing theses dark brown-tinted sunglasses, you know the kind with hardly any frame, and a black business suit. This chick is young and model pretty with a rockin’ body, a plunging neckline and no bra. Her tits are hanging out of her shirt.

 

Now, I’m usually polite about these things. But now, I’m just blatantly staring at this broad’s rack. I mean, number one she’s wearing sunglasses, so the social impulse to look her in the eye is gone, and two, she gave up all rights to subtlety when she put that shirt on.

 

I almost wanted to lie and say that I wasn’t registered, just so I could sit at the table a while longer. I sat and watched from inside and the other chair at her table was never empty for more than a couple seconds as a parade of guys stopped to talk to her, all with their gazes downward.

 

I left for work feeling good about this country. To this I say, thank you Mr. President. Thank you for being such a Mongolian cluster fuck of a commander-in-chief that you’ve motivated hot chicks with great racks to use their cleavage to get out the vote.

 

God bless America.