what if we skipped
the million-dollar mouthfights
the canned barbs
beamed from fancy shmancy studios –
and instead
aired the real thing:
presidential hopefuls
in low-budget real-time
competing on location at a roadside lunch counter –
competing in serving up chili dogs
yes, aprons on
no teleprompters, no note pads
just sweat, grease
and the hum of a busted freezer
let us vote on the following metrics:
did they greet the customer?
did they ask if they’d like cheese?
did they offer hot sauce?
did they warn: onions cost extra?
did they serve-up in a timely fashion?
did they have some sense of hand-eye coordination
juggling both buns and banter?
did they take pride in their work?
did they wipe down the counter?
did they treat the dishwasher like a peer?
did they wash their hands?
did they show any sense of the bread bun as communion?
when an order came in spanish
¿cómo les fue con eso?
were they willing to say where the ingredients came from
and how they were prepared?
did they have any lo-cal suggestions?
did the chili actually nestle on the bun
not on their sleeve?
and most importantly:
if chili was spilled, were they big enough to own it –
or in anger –
did they try to blame the bun?
Robert Lovitt is a local Olympia poet
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