When I was younger, I used to daydream about Prince. I would imagine what it would be like to be at one of the legendary parties at his mansion. These were your typical lame-ass young girl fantasies. Prince would come trotting out in his stilettos like the sexy little satyr that he was and he would play guitar for us. Perhaps our eyes would meet for one magical moment.
But then I grew up, and I got a newsflash courtesy of Cold Hard Reality: I would never actually go to one of Prince’s parties. It just wouldn’t happen, in the same way that I would never date that old school crush or become a good dancer. It wasn’t a painful realization, as by then my life had turned out to be far more unpredictable and meaningful than any celebrity fantasy could be.
The problem is, I live in a nation which still believes it’s going to get invited to the party. Too many of my fellow Americans suffer from the mansion party syndrome. They genuinely believe that one day they will be friends with Donald Trump. One day, they too will be winners. They will find a way to get rich. Maybe they will make some brilliant investment, or their singing talents will be discovered on Youtube. Or maybe they will win a million dollars on a reality show.
Here’s the thing–you won’t. Your chances of joining that club are tiny to slim. And that’s fine. But please, don’t vote based on the delusion that your membership in that club is possible. Stop voting against your own best interests. You keep thinking that the oligarchs would love to be BFFs with you. You’re waiting on the curb with that sad little bouquet, but your prom date isn’t coming to pick you up. Wealthy and powerful America isn’t going to make out with you in the back of the limo. They don’t care about you.
So don’t vote for the mansion. Vote for who you are, for your little house or apartment, if you still have it, because even that is slipping through your fingers already. There’s no shame in being a regular working person–you’re the one building this country, not Trump. You deserve to have a glamorous party thrown in your honor for all the blood and sweat you put in every day. Since that will never happen, at least stand up for yourself, and when Donald or Ted ask you out to the dance, turn them down.