What a Politician in Him

What a Politician in Him
Melvin Smith dabbed his tie on his brow. Clip board in hand, he made sure that he posture was perfect. There could be no mistakes. The Labor Party just couldn’t take any more embarrassments.
“Hello, my name is Melvin Smith and I’m your local Labor Party candidate,” he said to himself, extending his free hand for a handshake.
Melvin tried again, this time in a deeper tone. “Hello, my name is Melvin Smith and I’m your local Party candidate.”
He shook his head. This was going to be harder than he thought. But once he got past the introduction he knew that he was golden. Melvin had spent hours in front of his mother’s full length mirror going over talking points. Like all the other great MP’s, everything had to boil down into two word phrases: deficit reduction, growth plan, citizen focused.
The first house on his canvassing route approached on the right. Melvin’s heart started to pound. He closed his eyes to see the future, just like his public speech professor had taught him. Envisioning everything he wanted, he started to feel a calm wash over him as he made his way up the driveway. The very Earth seemed to give way at his confident step.
He strode up to the door. A quick jab on the door bell summoned the owner. Melvin turned around to see if there was anything about the house he could compliment about. He nearly doubled over at what he saw. The drive way was covered with wet concrete; all along its length his feet had made their mark.
Melvin whipped around as the door opened. A six-foot six man with arms like tree trunks answered the door.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Hello,” said Melvin. “I’m your local Conservative Party candidate.” The he turned around and ran back down the path.