Bidenomics Fails
“Why should I register as a Republican?” Juan sensed he was being signed up for something he didn’t want. “Maybe I want to vote for somebody else?”
Hector leaned back and held his hands up, “OK, Señor Torres. Look, nobody’s making you do anything. I’m just here to help.”
He’s back to calling me ‘Señor Torres’ again. Juan felt that was more appropriate.
“But think about this,” Hector continued. “Have you noticed that the prices for everything are going up?”
Juan didn't answer. He didn't have to. Everyone knew inflation was high.
“When Trump was President, all the prices were lower,’” Hector arched an eyebrow, “No?”
Juan nodded. But he reflected that his house was paid off, he had a good job, and he’d been starting to think about retirement. “The economy’s not so bad,” he offered. “I’ve seen it worse.”
Hector shook his head slowly like Juan had missed the most important point, “You know it’s different now, don’t you?”
Juan didn’t know what Hector was implying.
“Hmm,” Hector grunted dismissively. “I bet you’re one of those guys who thinks the government’s job is to do good for all, starting with the poor?”
Juan shrugged, "Yeah. What's wrong with that?"
“Why do you think we have all this inflation?” Hector’s voice rose, “Bidenomics is a failure, man!” “For twenty years they’ve been printing money to pay for all these vagabundos that are sleeping on our streets. They take our tax dollars and give them away to drug addicts and pervertidos!”
Maria gasped.
“We don’t talk like that in this house!” Juan objected.
Hector leaned forward, “You know I’m right,” he said. “Think about it. Everybody had it good under Trump. He didn’t waste our money on things like that. Trump understood respect! No?”
Juan felt queasy. There’s a lot of truth to what he’s saying. But it didn’t feel right. Nothing about this unusual encounter felt right. He looked over at Maria. She was staring at him intently from the kitchen. “No,” he said at last.
“No?” Hector looked surprised. “No, what?”
“No, I don’t want to register as a Republican.”
Hector rolled his eyes, “C’mon, Juan!” he objected, “You can’t seriously be thinking about the Democrats. How is your company doing? How long are you gonna have a job if inflation keeps going like this?”
“I don’t want the Democrats either,” now Juan was starting to become upset. “I have a right to vote for whoever I want!”
Hector’s hands went back up in the air. “Hey, hey,” he said. “Take it easy. I’m just here to help. Let me know what you want, whatever you need. Maybe you want to register as an Independent?”
Juan glanced sideways between Hector and Maria, looking for some sort of confirmation. “Yeah,” he’d begun to reach a decision. “Yeah. I like that. Maybe I’m an Independent.”
“They don't have any strong candidates. I'd hate to see you throw your vote away,” Hector began. But Juan cut him off with a stern look.
"OK," Hector typed a few more lines onto his tablet. "No problem. I've listed you as an Independent. You're a man who knows his own mind, Señor Torres. Congratulations. There is no primary election for people registered as Independents in Arizona, but you will be able to vote in the general election in November. Your ballot will come in the mail in a couple of weeks. OK?"
Juan breathed a little easier. “OK,” he said. It really was helpful to have this man take care of the computer stuff for him. I ought to be grateful.
“Now then,” Hector said. “Before I leave, are there any other members of your household that still haven’t registered to vote?”
Before Hector left the house that day, Juan, Maria, Sofia, and Carlos (who would receive a military absentee ballot) were all signed up.