John Cole Presents “This Fucking Old House”

Got myself hosed off and threw on the dress overalls, made sure I had my voter registration card and driver’s license, and loaded up the family truckster and headed on over to the County Courthouse. When I got there, there were about three ladies and a grumpy old man (not my dad) ahead of me, and as I waited, a couple more women trickled in behind me.

The wait was brief, about ten minutes, and the county clerk said they had already had 150 voters and it was only 11:30, which is quite a lot for my neck of the woods. Because I am rule breaker, when she said that, I announced loud enough for everyone to hear that “I’m sure there are a lot of people like me who are pretty darn sick and tired of a certain you know who” and the clerk hushed me because no politicking and several of the women there giggled and two of them nodded at me in agreement.

Finally got in the booth and was filling my ballot out and the grumpy old man (again, not me or my dad) was fussing with his thing as he reviewed his votes and then bellowed “I didn’t want to vote for that damned Donald Trump” and an attendant rushed over to reset it, and it was my turn to giggle. I was also pleasantly surprised that he was voting for Biden because I just sort of figured he was the Trump demographic.

I reviewed my ballot, printed it, and handed it to the county clerk and told her “I normally don’t vote for people running unopposed because I don’t want to encourage them, but you seem to have it really well put together here so I voted for you anyway,” and she blushed and shushed me again.

And my civic duties are complete for 2020. Fuck Donald Trump.

Then went to my favorite hole in the wall and got a garden omelette with hash browns, a black coffee and a large ice cold glass of milk, flirted with the homely waitress and then overtipped. Headed out in pursuit of a non racist barber.. Wait. Did I tell you my barber story? I don’t remember.

A couple weeks ago I ventured out of the bunker to get my hair did, as I had been shaving it myself all year, and figured I might as well get a cut before the third peak of covid, and went to my barber. I’ve been going to here for over a decade, since I moved back to Bethany, and we were friendly and she did pet rescue and the like. I knew she was a Trump supporter in 2016 and she knows I am a pink commie who will argue with her and not take her shit, but we had come to terms with it. At any rate, halfway through the cut she asked me what I thought about Black Live Matters and I said “They do and I support it” and she started into a racist tirade about looting and “those people just don’t want to work” and things like that. I was kinda shocked into silence, and just got up, paid, and left, called my dad because he goes there too, and said “we need to find a new barber.” Kinda sad, because I have only had two barbers since 1992, but I can’t support that shit. I guess what I have learned is you scratch any diehard Trump supporter and underneath you find a Klan hood.

At any rate, headed to the city of Steubenville, which has a decent sized black population (at least for around here), and was going to go to a black owned barbershop, the logic being they were less likely to be RACIST AS FUCK than all the white ones around here, not to mention the best haircuts I have ever had were by the black barbers in the Army and by the one Kuwaiti guy who cut my hair on base in the Persian Gulf. Alas, they were closed, so I will have to try again in the next few days. I took a picture of their hours so next time I won’t fuck it up and show up on the wrong day.

And the annual voting tradition is now over.

Welp, I VotedPost + Comments (84)