Not you, my dear reader, but the general, all-encompassing YOU that is the typical D.C. area policy wonk. Even more specifically, the person who can't wait to use any and every social encounter as an opportunity to pontificate about the glories of their chosen political party.
To be blunt, the Drunken Right Wing Republican Nazi Pittsburgh Steeler fanbitch at Summer's Bar on Sunday afternoon.
Now, to my way of thinking, pretty much any of those above descriptors would be enough to scare me like a little kid watching "The Omen," but this one, much like my school bus, was special.
She was loud. And apparently thinks less of Hillary Clinton than Prime Minister Bhutto thinks of General Musharraf.
As our group of football fans was seated next to her, she sort of glommed on to our party like a barnacle on a ship's hull. And once she started talking, she went from being "mildly attractive" to "Oh dear God somebody stop her from reproducing!"
She told the bar, quite loudly, that Hillary is a whore. She didn't put it lightly; she used that word, and that word had several wingmen, like "F-Bomb" and "C-Bomb."
She told us that the Republicans are the best. The F-Bomb best. That her family back in Pittsburgh was the best. Because they, like Bush, are Republicans. And Republicans are the best. Because they're not C-bombs like the C-Bomb Democrats.
She told us that Hillary was a bitch, and said something about Obama being black-ish or something.
Bear in mind, she said all of these Unapproved RNC talking points in about three minutes, plus other statements, before she simply stood up and walked out the door.
Here's what I don't get - it's Sunday. Veteran's Day. NFL Football is on 20+ TVs in this bar, plus English Premier League soccer. Nobody in a 100-foot radius around her was even THINKING about politics. But she had to bring it up anyway.
The goal of every political party is to win elections. Having a list of negative points about an opponent's policy or voting record is a rock-solid way of proving the superiority of your party. Calling an opponent a C U iN Toledo in the middle of a sports' bar makes you look like a dumbass.
Which, once again, supports my decision to be a registered Whig.