After working my ass off for the last few days of GOTV, by the time I arrived at Philadelphia International Airport the day after the election, I was dog-tired. My flight had just arrived from Cleveland -- and I still had another leg of the trip to go before I landed back home in Boston.
I walked down the long, wide hallway and found my terminal. Plunking down my bag down next to my travel companions, I decided to walk back up the hallway to "ExpressSpa" thinking that a cheesy shoulder and neck massage would help to ease my aching bones.
I walked in and gave the receptionist my name. She advised me to take my coat, complete with it's large embroidered Obama logo off -- and to remove my shoes. I placed my coat in the closet, revealing my purple Obama t-shirt, and walked over to a chair, where a blond woman stood by waiting to help me begin my long-awaited moment of zen.
The salon was beautifully decorated, very professional, and filled with young African American women performing a wide variety of overpriced services to weary travelers. Only two white employees were present -- one at the desk -- the other standing next to an empty chair waiting for me.
We began with a little idle chit chat. Yes, I've just come from working with the Obama campaign. Yes, I'm elated that he won. Yes, I've just spent months all over the country -- walking the hills of New Hampshire and the urban streets of Cleveland.
I put my head into the horseshoe shaped rest, and she began to massage my tired back.
As a veteran of massage -- a girl does need a treat every once in a while -- I noticed immediately how aggressive the woman was rubbing me. This was more than just the average massage pressure -- and I tried to bite my lip to hide my discomfort -- and to avoid being seen as a wimp.
Then, Blondie began to speak.
"I'm a Republican. And I just think this is the worst day in American history," she said woefully, as her hands moved over the word "OBAMA" printed in bright orange on the back of my shirt. "He's not even an American citizen you know. And he's a Muslim!"
As she continued, it took me a solid minute to realize what was happening. Was I really paying to listen to what amounted to Time Life's "Worst of Conserative Talking Points EVER" soundtrack -- after working so long and fighting so hard?
I jumped up from the chair.
"Get your hands off of me."
Blondie looked stunned.
"I'm not going to sit here and listen to this crap. I just got finished telling you that I worked on the campaign, and you're really going to stand there and start giving me this line of bullshit?"
Now, normally, I wouldn't cause a scene. I'm not really that type of person. But apparently my tired mind and body left me void of any politeness and ready to speak my mind.
Loudly.
"I'm all set, " I said -- snatching my jacket from the rack and storming out of the store leaving stunned employees in my wake.
Arriving back at the gate, I was seething. I sat down next to my friends, re-telling my story and listening to my heart pound in my ears. I decided chocolate was in order, so I made my way over to the coffee stand -- just across from ExpressSpa.
Surely, this woman wouldn't be stupid enough to start anything with me in the middle of the terminal -- would she?
As I turned from the counter and began to sip my icy chocolate concoction, Blondie began to step out from the storefront and approach me in the hallway.
"Honey, I'm happy to do your massage. I don't want you to be upset."
Given the fact that she had time to stand in the storefront, as you would imagine, business was slow.
"No. Get away from me." I said.
She persisted. "You just have to understand. I have a friend who is a lawyer and he is suing to get to the bottom of Obama's birth certificate. He wasn't born in the United States." She continued with some other nonsensical conservative chatter ... and I think I blacked out.
Then, I lost it.
"Are you out of your f**king mind lady? That's nothing more than ridiculous email conspiracy that has been flying around the internet. People like you shouldn't have the internet because you're AN IDIOT! Barack Obama is the NEXT PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. Do you really think he would have arrived at the point of being elected PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES without being fully VETTED? That crap has all been debunked and the idea that you actually believe this crap -- I'm just embarrassed for you. You need to come to terms with the fact that he is going to be the next President of the United States. You need to get over yourself and start realizing that people like you are ripping this country apart. You lost, it's over, MOVE ON. And I'm certainly not going to pay you for a service and then have to listen to your Republican bullshit at the same time!"
Stammer, stammer, stammer.
I didn't realize a crowd had formed around us while I was talking. Talking is a kind way of describing what happened -- it was more like YELLING LOUDLY in this woman's face. She looked stunned.
So, I sound like a maniac. But you see, this moment was the culmination of listen to the past eight years of garbage, worrying about whether some idiot would be half-listening to talk radio and believe the crap delivered on a daily basis. Eight years of arguing with family members about whether or not to believe whatever bullshit that had been delivered to their inbox. I snapped.
When we talk about "leaving it all on the road ..." I feel like I literally left it all on the road. I was beyond tired. I was beyond weary. But I was over the moon. All of our hard work had finally paid off. And I certainly wasn't going to let some bleach blond bimbo in the Philadelphia airport take that feeling of euphoria away from me.
"Any other bullshit you'd like to tell me? Or are we done here?" I said, taking a sip of my now melting beverage. There was no response -- other than light clapping from a couple of her coworkers inside the salon.
"Have a GREAT day! God Bless America!"
You can take the girl out of Boston ... but you'll never take Boston out of the girl.