I was listening to the radio, headed south to Florida, second biggest population of NewYorkers in the world. The radio announcer said "Hurricane Isaac set to crash Republican National Convention."
Sara, sitting next to me, changes the channel. Apolitical, she doesn't like the news during election season. Which is okay, nor do I. I just can't help listening and getting pissy.
She doesn't like me when I am pissy.
It's difficult to deal with someone who can't help taking the opposite view in any discussion, so she doesn't.
"So," said slowly, "don't take this as an opening, but is it ironic that the party that said hurricane Katrina was the punishment of sinners in New Orleans, is about to get hit by a hurricane?"
I smiled keeping my opinion firmly behind my teeth.
"Or, is this storm going to be a left wing communist plot?"
Communist? I thought. "Communist?". I asked.
"Hurricane Ivan," she said, looking at me through lashes with slightly too much mascara. "The republicans will leave before they have to take the blame."
I started to laugh. She hit me, rising out of her seat to put some force behind it.
"What are you laughing at?"
"Isaac." I said rubbing my shoulder. "Hurricane Isaac."
"Oh," she said propping her bare feet up on the corner of the dash, "I am sure something anti-Semitic will be said about it."
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