Here it is:  I'm picking through my mixed veggies at this Vietnamese foodie when one of my dinner mates asked about the Primaries.  It was a blast back to reality considering we were in mid-convo about a friend's new play.  A fantasia piece about black folks fearing the dissolution of their cultural and historical significance in this era of global gadgetry.  Interesting stuff.  So much so we completely forgot about Obama and Hilliary duking it out in Hoosier Land. 

I tried calling my friend Hakeem in Los Angeles for the latest.  He's always on the pulse of what's new with Obama.  His phone went straight to voicemail.  No problem.  One of my dinner mates called her mother in Virginia.  She was certain moms would know something.  Moms' phone went straight to voicemail.  We panicked.  I checked my missed alerts and noticed Hakeem [and Rashaad] had called thirty minutes prior and I somehow missed those calls.  Something had happened.  Either Obama had lost both North Carolina and Hoosier Country and the world had gone into turmoil. Or Hilliary won both Primaries and our friends and fam had gathered in some underground cave awaiting the end of the world.  I pushed my mixed veggies to the end of the table.

My dinner mate abruptly excused herself and went to the restroom.  I'm assuming she needed to splash that face with cold water.  What would we do if Obama lost the Primaries?  Would it prove what some skeptics had been predicting:  Reverend Wright's random cockiness last week had indeed bulldozed Obama's campaign and the American public couldn't see him as anything more than the doting pupil of some Afrocentric jackleg preacher who wants to lock away all Whites inside a dungeon of oppression as blacks take over the world?  

I looked over at my other dinner mate, seeking comfort, reassurance.  But interesting enough he had been quiet during our panic.  He was just quietly forking his Lemongrass Chicken.  So I said to him, If Hilliary wins NC and the Hoosiers I'd pack it up and move to Canada.  He said nothing. Odd, I thought.  So I called Hilliary and Bill a couple of Carpetbaggers and that I wouldn't trust a Clinton to pour me a glass of water on my dying day.  He still said nothing.  Yep.  A Clinton supporter was in our midst.  A Clinton supporter had actually snuck under my nose and I was speechless.  I decided to take the final sip of my mediocre wine and comment on its lack of bouquet.  You know, because this was awkward.  He looked up at my forced segue and offered a half smile.  One of those "you're an idiot and you just called Hilliary a carpetbagger but I'm going to be civilized and just eat my chicken" smiles.   

I decided I wouldn't mention this to the other dinner mate.  Earlier in the night she confessed this guy was a new friend and I didn't want to say anything to compromise their new friendship.  That may sound crazy, but folks get hard-core passionate about their politicians. And I wasn't even sure if she knew about his allegiance.

My other dinner-mate finally returned from the restroom looking energized.  She spoke to her mother.  Obviously we were the only humans on the planet who didn't know Obama had won North Cackalacky and was neck to neck with Hilliary in Indiana.  I was relieved and decided to flaunt in front of you know who.  So as we were leaving the foodie I said, You know Hilliary can have Indiana if she wants, but if she wins the nomination we may have to burn this baby down.  My dinner-mate laughed in agreement [she clearly had no idea we were dining with a Clinton disciple].  I was kidding, of course.  But it feels good to take a Clinton jab when someone close by can actually feel it.  Especially after you go into a panic about Obama losing and the end of the world and a Clintonite is there to witness it.  Sometimes folks just need to know who really has the upper hand.