September 01, 2004
Undercover with Republican Singles, Part Two
Make sure to read Part One!
I got my first beer and the host led us up to the roof, warning us to tiptoe and whisper to not disturb the neighbors. And we arrived on the roof, where the party's numbers were doubled, and the Empire State Building rose up in glowing magnificence. We towered above most of midtown.
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| Snacks and singles may be less appetizing in real life than they appear in the promotional photo |
I frankly found this a risky location for such an event, as one of these conservative maidens, now deep into her thirties and faced with a choice between spinstery and settling for good with one of these pink-faced accounts manager, might instead fling herself 46 stories onto Sixth Avenue.
But by caution was misplaced. Actual mingling was occurring. Shrewd PR folks that they are, ConservativeMatch had sent out a press release for this event, and reporters from the Wall Street Journal, The Hill, and NPR were there, interviewing us lonelyhearts about the dating prospects for Republicans.
I listened in while the NPR reporter, who was by far the best-looking woman in attendance (point: liberals), tried to ask the guy with the Ronald Reagan shirt about his love life.
"I don't trust any station that doesn't support itself with advertisements," he announced, his body taking a defensive posture. "I don't trust any news organization that has to ask for money. And then purport to be unbiased."
The reporter smiled and held out the mic: "So have you met any woman tonight?"
"If you hand over your revenue to the free market, you're guaranteed to be neutral," the fellow demanded. "No offense, but that's how it works."
The reporter slid off her earphones to make sure she was hearing him right. She told him, with a smile, that no offense was taken, and that she didn't speak for the organization.
"People are only going to pay if you tell them what they want to hear," he sputtered, trembling slightly.
The woman sighed and turned to interview someone else. My heart pounded. I longed to be leap from this khaki and oxford cloth prison suit I wore, and reveal myself to be like her, to tell her how much I loved world beat music and economic reports from Botswana. I, too, drink my tea from a pledge-week reusable plastic mug. But I resisted. I had some reporting to do myself.
Stay tuned for Part Three in which:
- I discuss the Marquis de Sade with a woman of traditional values
- I learn the hard way why conservative women are not attracted to artists
