Great Expectations

By now, I have switched to playing Frogger and I'm doing exceptionally well, if I say so myself. I am interrupted by another tap, tap, tapping.

I yell: Go away, Joe. I am very busy.

The voice says: It’s not, Joe, Mr. Mayor. It's Joyce Wilkerson. Open this door, please. I have something to tell you.

I reply, sweetly; I'm sorry, Joyce I am far too busy to open the door. Please, go away.

Wilkerson says: Well, if you won't let me in, I'll just have to tell you from here. Mr. Mayor, Nutter won.

I say: He did not.

She says: You know very well he won, Mr. Mayor. He won by 12 points over Knox. He creamed Chaka and Brady and Dwight. You can turn on the TV if you want to see his victory speech.

I reply: I'm sorry. I can't. My TV is broken. Now, go away.

Grace says: Mr. Mayor, we thought you might want to call Nutter and congratulate him. It seems the right thing to do.

I reply: I can't. My phone is broken, too. Sorry. Go away.

But, once again, I hear a rap, tap, tapping on my door.

I ask: Who is it?

I hear: Dad, it's me, Sharif. Dad, I lost. The voters rejected me. Let me in, will ya? I want to plot revenge. I've got a list of ward leaders who said they would support me and….

I interrupt: Sorry, son. I don't have the time. I'm too busy.

Suddenly, I hear a commotion outside. Some shouts. A few curses. The sounds of scuffling.

I yell: Stop that ruckus! I'm busy in here. What's going on?

A voice says: John, it's me, Milton, your older brother. Let me in.

I say: I suppose you lost, too.

Milton says: Yea. I lost. I can't understand why, but the people have rejected me.

I ask: What's the commotion.

Milton says: That's Sharif. He thinks me being on the ballot hurt him.

I ask: Where's Shariff now?

Milton says: He's okay. Grace and Wilkerson are holding him down..

I hear a key click in the door and the four of them burst into the room.

Wilkerson says: I see you behind that curtain, Mr. Mayor. Come out. You have to call Nutter to offer your congratulations.

I yell: Congratulate Mr. Na Na Smarty Pants Michael Nutter? Never! To think that he will be sitting in this office, behind this desk, in this chair! I can't bear it!

Wilkerson says: Now, Mr. Mayor, you know you have to call him.

I yell: No! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I won't do it.

Milton says: John, get a hold of yourself. We Streets are destined to be misunderstood.

Grace says: You know, I just realized something. Milton sounds a lot like the mayor.

Wilkerson says: Of course, why didn't I think of that.

She hands Milton the phone and says: You make the call to Nutter.

Milton shrugs as they dial up Nutter's suite.

He gets on and says: Michael, this is Street. I just wanted to congratulate you on your victory and I want you to know I will do anything I can to help you make this transition as smooth as possible. I stand ready to help you in any way I can. I mean that, sincerely. My best to you and your family.

He clicks off. Grace asks him: What did he say?

Milton says: He said I was tremendously kind and gracious.

I say: Good, the deed is done.

Now, get out of here, all of you. I have work to do.

They file out and I turn to you, dear diary, to pen the words I hate to write.

Mayor Na Na Smarty Pants Michael Nutter.

Oh, the perfidy! Oh, the horror!
- Tom Ferrick