"You know what they're buying with food stamps? Cupcakes. I saw a woman in front of me at Star Market…"

"Do you know what they were reading in my kid's English class? Girls and boys both? You ever hear of Eldridge Cleaver?"

Ronni Alexander had a glass of wine.

"As long as the private sector has to compete with the government for money, the interest rates will stay up. It's simple supply and demand…"

I noticed that Ronni Alexander had finished her wine and gotten another.

The smoke thickened in the room. Born-again Christians didn't seem to sweat lung cancer.

"… even have a Christmas pageant in school this year. Some Jew complained…"

Fix Farrell said to me, "Okay, we gotta get going. Ronni's started on the wine."

Ronni was getting her plastic cup refilled at the buffet.

Farrell muttered to Westin. "Make the fucking late announcement."

Westin said loudly above the room noise, "Excuse me, excuse me, folks."

Farrell moved over beside Alexander and whispered to him. Dale Fraser went out to get the cars brought up.

"Meade would stay here all night if we'd let him. But someone's got to be the bad guy. We have to get him to bed. So we thank you for coming, and if you'll just hold still a second, I know Meade will want to say good-bye. Then I hope you folks will stay and enjoy the wine."

Alexander stepped beside Westin and his smile freshened the thick air.

"I thank you all for coming. Remember me when it's time to vote. Listen to your conscience, and God bless."

Then he took his wife's arm. She smiled brilliantly, and with Farrell beside them and me and Cambell behind mem, they headed out of the room and toward the waiting cars. Ronni had brought her plastic cup with her. One for the road.