Well, kids, tomorrow is Election Day, and that means Adolph Trumpler is going to become
the next President Our Beloved Orange Leader
and, like all the other non-normative Americans, my queer ass will be grass –
and I don’t mean the Devil’s lettuce. My mother brought me up to dress
appropriately for the task at hand, and that’s why I’m putting careful thought
into what I’m going to wear when the secret police break down my door in the
middle of the night and haul me away to the work camps.
I mean, there’s no way I’m going to survive a weeks-long, mid-winter death march if I’m not wearing appropriate footwear. I got my boyfriend to buy me a pair of hiking books a couple of weeks ago. He thinks they’re for hiking.
|Bless his heart.|
A Leather Jacket
The leather motorcycle jacket I bought at the Goodwill for $20 should offer some scant protection when I throw myself from the back of a moving semi-trailer in a desperate, last-ditch bid for escape. My second choice is a denim jacket wrapped in duct tape. I saw this documentary on TV that said that duct tape protects against zombie bites, and there’s no telling what I might be up against as I journey cross-country by moonlight to join the resistance.
Jeans, I Guess
I hate jeans like a Bernie supporter hates voting for Hillary. Well, okay, I don’t hate voting for Hillary. I like Hillary. But I hate jeans. The older and fatter I get, the more I hate jeans. Once upon a time, jeans were my friends. Now they refuse to hang out with me until I stop dipping my French fries in hot bacon grease, but I’m going to need all this extra body fat when I’m walking to Canada, subsisting on grubs.
|This map is saved in my phone as "walking directions to Canada."|
So, it looks like I might have to wear slacks to be deported. I love my slacks – they have elastic in the waistband. But you don’t see Mad Max wearing slacks, because you don’t wear slacks to the apocalypse. I recently tried on the boyfriend’s jeans, “for no reason,” and they were absurdly long because he’s 6’5”, but I guess they’ll have to do in a pinch. I can roll them up. A lot.
I’m not sure what time of year it’ll be when I’m deported – I’m white, so they probably won’t get around to deporting me until after they’ve deported all the brown and yellow people first, and I’m bi, so they probably won’t deport me until they’ve deported all the lesbian, gay, and trans people first. Hell, maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll just sterilize me instead – I’ve been thinking about getting that done anyway. But I’m guessing that unless they deport me in the middle of July, I should probably dress in layers, because who knows what the weather will be doing. Of course, it all depends where they’re deporting people to. If it’s Canada (please be Canada), I’m going to need my snow clothes, even if it is the middle of July. If it’s Mexico (or…Cuba???), I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have lots of sundresses, but you don’t see Mad Max wearing a sundress either.
I hate elections.