Eavesdropping key to pre-election prediction

I took in the all-candidates’ meeting out in Hooterville the other night and it was predictable to say the least. Obama and McCain were at their best (whoops, sorry, wrong election).
The candidates visiting Drizzle Creek District were arrayed across the front like a bunch of convicted terrorists awaiting the firing squad. The assassins were scattered throughout the audience trying to get their jabs in at the victims they didn’t support while deflecting criticism from their own favourite.
Bombast and hyperbole were rampant. Even the candidates were slinging a bit of mud.
All in all, we didn’t learn much and no one changed their minds. It seems to be the status quo. But someone must be changing their allegiance; otherwise what would be the point of having an election?
Well, I’ve got it figured out. A sure-fire poll I reckon is accurate. Here is how I stumbled on it: I started listening to women.
My wife, the Pearl of the Orient, says that isn’t true, claiming I haven’t listened to her more than once or twice in nearly 40 years of wedded bliss. I had to explain it was other women I was listening to—eavesdropping, actually (besides, husbands and wives aren’t supposed to listen to each other).
I started picking up these tidbits while waiting at the checkout, picking up the mail, paying my “Stupid Tax” at the 6/49 counter, or offering refills to the ladies crowding the front table at the Bakery in Drizzle Creek. I started keeping track.
“Did you see that hunky John RiffRaff outside the post office this morning,” gushed one lady of maturing years.
“My yes! Those flowing locks of glistening silver. I’d sure like to run my fingers through his hair,” replied a companion letting out an audible sigh.
“Well, I like that Kenny BiffBoff. He has that cute little wave of hair flipping down over his forehead and such a lovely smile,” said a third. Then, with a giggle, added, “He’s single, you know.”
“That Rusty Lusty seems like a very nice young man,” observed another thoughtfully.
“Too young. He’s just a baby. You’d have to spend all your efforts mothering him,” snorted a Red Hatter obviously fed up with raising kids and ready to wear purple.
“Well, how about that Ricky Oldmann. He’s a mature military man. I always was a sucker for a man in a uniform” wondered another wag, dreamily running her tongue over her lips.
I was receiving some hostile looks so I drifted out of earshot, but I’ve been keeping score and the prediction is RiffRaff edging out BiffBoff by a hairdo. Oldmann will be a distant third while Rusty Lusty could make a surprisingly strong showing if the empty nest syndrome kicks in.
Statistically, this poll is considered accurate within 50 percentage points, 10 times out of 20 (maybe).

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