Typical Day
Paul DePeeple opens his closet and scrutinizes his wardrobe choices. Navy suit and ballot box tie. Charcoal suit and American Flag tie. Vote for Pedro shirt—wait, who put that in there? And the dove gray suit with elephant and donkey print tie. Well, this is going to be the easiest decision he'll make all day.
As he knots the elephant/donkey print around his neck, Paul composes one of his awful jokes. "This is gonna be a close election. Both parties are tied neck and neck!" Oh yeah, staff will love this one.
Paul arrives at the office and pours a cup of super-strong coffee into his "Justice Farall for Attorney General" travel mug. These babies have been a real hit on the campaign trail, especially with perpetually-exhausted college students. Paul examines the stacked boxes of packaged mugs, and makes a note to order more. Maybe some ballpoint pens, too.
He does a quick calculation in his head, and decides the pens will be a good freebie to give away at the business convention next weekend. Paul makes a call to "Logos 'n' Things," and reminds the receptionist to waive the imprint fee, since Farall's campaign logo is already in their system. He's worked with the company many times, and knows that the shipment will arrive on time.
A graphics intern brings Paul a mockup of the Farall flyers which will be sent to every house in the district. Paul doesn't like the cropping on Farall's picture, and asks to see the original photographs. Farall's smiling in four of them, and looking concerned in six. Paul opts for "concerned," because the news has been pretty grim lately.
Three shots make the final cut, but unfortunately the best one was photobombed by that creepy supporter who comes to all of Farall's rallies dressed as a red white and blue clown. No time for that—second-best it is. Paul will review the final draft and get Farall's okay before it's sent to the printers. And maybe look into potential restraining orders against "clown guy."
"Hi, Paul. I'm just stopping to check in before I head to tour the Youth Club," says a tall, well-groomed woman who has just entered the office. Paul steps forward to greet his candidate.
"Good morning, Justice!"
Before she was a judge, Justice Farall helped to create an after-school job training program for at-risk youth, which is why this publicity opportunity is a perfect fit. Paul runs through the morning schedule with her, reminding Farall to focus on her ideas for strong gun control and youth outreach initiatives. Not that he's worried about her staying on message; Farall is a whiz at memorization. Her magnetic personality always wins over her audience.
That's why Paul is aggressively working the media angle on this campaign, and plans to challenge Farall's main challenger to a live debate. Mr. Kafeen's six-coffee-a-day habit makes him chatter a mile a minute, and next to him, Farall will look effortlessly cool and collected.
Before Farall leaves, Paul tells her that she must squeeze in a lunchtime visit to the Consumer Protection Organization, to discuss the future of internet security. He hands her a list of talking points, knowing that the members will likely inquire about what she plans to do about the recent rash of credit card fraud.
"Phew, Justice, it's a good thing your mom was a victim of identity theft last month. That's really going to get you some sympathy points with the C.P.O."
Paul freezes as Farall raises an eyebrow.
"Ummm, okay, not good, exactly. More like fortuitous. Serendipitous? Convenient? You know what, never mind. I want to win, and if your mom's credit score had to be scrubbed of $1,800 worth of lingerie purchases at Victoria's Boudoir, so be it."
Farall laughs, and Paul is glad that she is so easy-going. His last candidate, Ezel E. Uffendid, clashed with him over nearly every decision, and they ended up parting ways mid-campaign due to "a difference of opinion." It was definitely for the best, too—after Uffendid's latest tantrum went viral, Paul thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't the one stuck doing damage control.
Paul sends Farall out the door, along with a publicity manager who is under strict instructions to phone the office if anything goes haywire. Last week, Farall was mobbed at an daycare full of unruly toddlers Things got sticky (literally). Farall emerged from the melee with peanut butter handprints all over her coat.
Paul eases into his comfy desk chair, careful not to spill coffee on his fabulous tie. He hears a laugh from the phone bank of volunteers working their way through city phone records, and nods in approval. These folks love Justice, and it shows.
Paul's phone bleeps, and he squints at the screen. Ah yes, members of the Women's Business Congregation will be arriving in fifteen minutes to discuss seating for next month's fundraiser. Paul rises, clearing his throat, and adjusting his tie. In this line of work, you never get to sit down for long.