Feeling Good

       The race had been tight since the primaries.  We had been all over the country.  I had made speeches, shook more hands than I could even count, and kissed so many babies their faces all blurred into one.  It was a dream I had pursued since I was a kid running in school elections.  All I ever wanted was to hold public office and make a difference in the world.  I wanted to help people.  I wanted to be remembered.  Then I had met Vivian.

         

       Vivian captivated me like no other woman could.  The only problem was that Vivian was from the wrong side of the tracks and not “First Lady” material.  Still, I lusted after her and chased her like a dog in heat.  I never figured the press would find out, but I realized the hard way that the press always finds out everything eventually.  No matter what, they always find out.  I thought I was immune.   I had gone to all the right schools, crawled my way to the top of the political ladder all the way to this run to the white house.    I had my good name, plenty of money, and the prerequisite perfect political wife, two kids, and family dog.  For all intents and purposes, I was a shoe in.

      Still my dark side was always there waiting to be discovered.  Vivian introduced me to cocaine and I was hooked.  I loved the rush it gave and the feeling of power I had been chasing my whole life.  It emboldened me to try new things…things I should have never thought of.  Vivian was a first rate call girl and honestly with her I experienced the best sex I ever had in my life.  That woman knew how to blow my mind.  There were times that I thought maybe it was the drugs that made Vivian so exciting, and then I realized I couldn’t live without either.  I got Vivian her own place and car, everything her heart desired.

         Now on the eve of the biggest election of my life for the top spot in the land the press had found out all about Vivian and the drugs.  I was ruined.  My life started to unravel quickly after that.  Feeling good didn’t seem to matter anymore.  My campaign manager rushed to do what damage control he could.  Unfortunately, the damage had been done.  No one wanted a cocaine addict as their leader and a prostitute as their First Lady.  No one was impressed with the perfect persona I had been selling once they learned the truth.  It didn’t matter how much the voters had loved my ideas, how great a speech maker I was, or what a sterling track record I had in public office previously.    Once the truth was out, there was nothing any of my campaign team could do to turn things back to our favor.  We gave it everything we had, but it wasn’t enough.  I lost the election.  I lost my perfect family and dog.  I lost my credibility.  In the end, I lost my dream.  All I was left with was Vivian and a stint in prison for possession.

      Still determined to have it all in the end, I had a sex change, found religion and thanks to millions spent in plastic surgery became Vivian.   I changed my clothes, my hair and face and am now the hottest thing in Hollywood.   I am feeling good, that is, until the press finds out.

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