Many people and I among them were there for one reason only. Some watched compulsively at the clock, others listened attentively to the advice coming from the piranhas in their stomachs. Dinner time was near and the candidate still had many things to promise, many promises to make.
At the far end of the room were trays of focaccine and panzerotti, desserts, sandwiches and small stuffed buns, crates of beer and drinks of all kinds.
As in a 100m final, voters and crashers waited for a signal from the starter. Would he have finished speaking or not? Did he have much more?
The greetings were met by an exalted audience.
Gigi’s father, he had been the one to take us there, snapped and grabbed a tray with panzerotti. I, who had flirted with beer cans for a long time, wanted to switch from petting to facts.
The 24-pack vanished before I could get one.
As I counted the fingers on my hand to make sure they were all there, Gigi’s father took possession of a table, placed the loot on it and with the rectitude of a good family man, he called his children and relatives around him. He began to distribute the panzerotti.
When he was sure that all the family had received a share, he called the friends.
I had my own share.
I learned a lot that night.
Never participate in election dinners, especially when these are organized by an adverse political party.
If one really has to, better eat at home.
What would Djenghis have done in such a situation?
“Ceci n’est pas une frite.” is a tribute to the de portables who celebrate 25 years of career this year.
Listen to The Debts doing a cover of de portables “What Would Djenghis Do?” here