HILLARY MOS

When I stopped at our local health food store I realized it was Thursday, the day of the week they made their world-famous tofu pad thai.

The handsome woman at checkout asked, “Have you had it before?” I said it was my first time and complemented her on her Hillary button.

It was square with a blue background. The arrowed letter H logo was superimposed on a red heart. She wore it over her heart. She patted it, shook her head and said, “You wouldn’t believe the things people say to me when they see the button.”

But I would. This campaign season has been open season on incredulity. Nothing really surprises me anymore. Or for very long.

“One guy told me that Bill Clinton made millions by selling drugs out of the White House and that Hillary had killed 23 people when she was First Lady. ‘Check the website,’ he says.” She told him she would not.

We stepped away from the counter and formed a quick ad hoc support scrum and swapped a few more stories about the Sanderistas and Trumphalists. We felt better. Pad thai customers came in. She turned back to the counter.

“Speaking of websites,” I added, “a friend of mine has joined a feminist pro-Hillary online website. She says you can say nice things about Hillary without fear of attack.”

My new Hillary Mo had already grabbed a recycled paper bag and was writing down the information.

“My friend says it’s very relaxing.”

I pushed out the door into windy rain. “Please come back tomorrow,” she said a little pleady, “It’s Tofu Falafel Friday.”