Day 182: Fishfingers

A knock on the door yesterday evening.  Perfectly timed to coincide with me having salmon hands (fishcake craft).  I open the door - there's a man with red hair and a matching rosette.  He looks startled.  I realise I am holding my fingers stiffly splayed - it probably looks odder than it feels. 

Rosette Man:  'Hello.  Voting for local elections is taking place this evening, up at the Jubilee Hall'.

Edward Salmon-Hands:  'Right.  I know the Jubilee Hall.'

(Awkward pause).

Rosette Man:  'I am the Labour candidate...'

Edward Salmon-Hands:  'Yes.  I guessed that from the rosette'.

(Awkward pause).

Rosette Man:  'Um...  Thank you for your time.'

(Exit) 

Ironic that the Labour candidate fails to put any labour into his efforts at all.  As he walks away into the rain, I am in half a mind to call him back.   'TELL me why I should vote for you!  INSPIRE me!  Come on, man - don't lose heart!  This is your CHANCE!'  But the fishcakes are calling, so I don't. 

I wonder why he didn't try harder.  Perhaps my hands put him off.