Free The Hot Guy at the GOP Debate by Victoria Pearl Page A

in
high school when he dumped her two days before prom so he could take
her so-called best friend, instead. Then Drew, her college boyfriend
decided to leave for the Peace Corp in Guatamala, and then decided to
never come home. When she finally met Jason, sensitive, thoughtful,
romantic Jason, who surprised her with a flash-mob engagement at
work, it seemed she had really hit the jackpot. Just three weeks ago,
Jason had told her that he and his therapist had come to the
conclusion that he was, in fact, gay, but he hoped they could still
be friends and go to the theater together sometimes.
    The
truth was that Jacey hadn't been out of her house in three weeks. Her
hair was a matted mess of misery, and she was in no mood to leave her
safe, reclusive bed of tears. “C'mon Lady Sadness,” she
said to herself, “it's time to rejoin the land of the
living--at least for a few hours.”
    The
cool stream of the shower hitting her skin shocked her into realizing
that she hadn't showered since she got the life-changing news. She
felt sorrow sprinkled with shame that she had allowed herself to
succumb to such depression. “NO!” She admonished herself,
“No, I'm not going to bully myself with shame on top of
everything else I'm feeling now! This was not my fault! I have no
control over his sexual orientation! This is not a reflection of me
as a woman! No shame here! Sadness, yes, and anger at him for not
sharing his struggle with me, yes! But NO Shame! I cannot, I WILL NOT
continue to beat myself up over this!” She affirmed out loud.
    Jacey
emerged from the shower a less exhausted, somewhat renewed woman. She
quickly brushed her hair and applied some light makeup before
dressing and racing out the door with her hair still wet.
    She
was relieved to be able to hail a cab quickly. “I suppose I
should see what this guy looks like, she thought as she googled “hot
guy at debate,” on her cellphone. Oh, that must be him, she
thought. Chiseled features, young, handsome, and strategically
situated behind the monitor in perfect line with the camera. Probably
an actor or a model wearing some designer's newest creation. Someone
must have hired him to hawk their wares, Jacey decided.
    She
knew the type, a handsome, empty-headed young struggling actors were
a dime a dozen in this town. He probably had no idea what event he
was even attending, the debate was probably way over his head, she
thought condescendingly. She immediately flashed on Joey Tribbiani
from the TV show,  Friends .
He's probably sweet but fluffy. She christened him, “Mr.
Fluffy!” Jacey like to pick ridiculous names for the people in
her stories, especially for the stories she resented doing. It was
her passive-aggressive way of dealing with the situation. She had to
be careful, though because she once accidentally submitted a story to
Mac and forgot to use the find and replace editing tool to change Mr.
Wedgiebutt to Mr. Michaels!
    Alright
Mr. Fluffy, who are you and why were you placed front and center?
This will be an easy piece, Jacey thought. I'll be back in bed by
10:00.
    When
the cab pulled up to the convention hall, Jacey was bemused by the
spectacle before her. It was a controlled mob scene outside the hall!
You would have thought Elvis was inside, she thought. Most of the
crowd was young women, though there were quite a few men as well, all
milling around watching the live broadcast on their cellphones. Jacey
peered over several shoulders and saw that many of them were
tweeting. She pulled out her cellphone to see what was going on.
    Twitter
was blowing up with tweets about “the hottie at the debate.”
Is that what all these people are doing here? She wondered. Are they
all here to catch a glimpse of Mr. Fluffy? Jacey shook her head at
the absurdity of the scene, even as she marveled at the power,
immediacy, and the oftentimes idiocy of social media.
    Jacey
pushed her way through the crowd to the entrance, where she was
stopped by a security