The Tale of David Patrick Gardner

Politicians (yes, all of them) Are Bad People

"Do you not understand that it's rude to bring in junk food and offer it during a staff meeting? Did you even consider that there might be some of us who are trying not to eat that crap? Stephen, take these down to the first floor for the security team," said Council member Ron Vaughn while closing the lid of a cardboard box before sliding it across the oversized glossy conference-room table in the direction of his right hand man. "Shelia, I want you to understand what you've done here. Develop a list of reasons why junk-food will be strictly prohibited at staff meetings from this point forward. Have it finished by the end of the day, and run it by Stephen before bringing it to me for a signature," ordered council member Ron Vaughn to his elderly secretary, who sat frozen, tears welling up in her eyes after absorbing an out of left field fit hurled her way for the crime of bringing in a box of donuts.

This was par for the course. The council member routinely demeaned his staff, directing them to use their time doing meaningless tasks that Ron would invent and speak of as if they were matters of national security. Only a week prior to the staff-meeting-donut-debacle, Ron had started making his secretary hold and blow onto each expended instant coffee K-cup for one full minute before throwing it into the trash. This was due to an unfounded fear that they may be flammable, or at least that was his excuse. Any reason was reason enough to publicly humiliate an underling.

Ron Vaughn had sat on the King County Council for more than two decades, with little risk of losing his seat to a political challenger. A long time incumbent, given every advantage, safe. However, don't let this bit of information make you think that there weren't times that he panicked at the thought of having it all taken away from him. It's just that it was never an election that brought his standing into doubt. Instead, the idea of past indiscretions resurfacing haunted the council member's consciousness. Skeletons in the closet some would say, and within local political circles it was no secret that Ron Vaughn had many, many skeletons buried in his past. There was widespread speculation that this was the reason for his stagnant stance over the last twenty years. He remained stationary in his seat 'serving' (robbing, and exploiting) the county, never dipping his toes into the pursuit of bigger and better things. But the truth is that skeletons had very little to do with his decision not to pursue a higher office. For Ron, the hundred and eighty thousand dollar salary, low level celebrity status, and overall lack of meaningful work meant that he had made it. He had climbed the ladder and nested where we saw fit, and now that he was comfortably settled he saw no reason to continue climbing.

Over time, the council member grew accustomed to spending nearly half the year at his vacation home in Arizona, far away from the pulse of the people who he was elected to serve. But who cared? Do you know who your county representative is? Neither did most of the people living in Ron's district, and that was just the way he wanted it. Ron was content with the little people being blissfully unaware of his existence, so long as the big money business owners and those connected with the local professional sport's teams, baseball was of principal importance, recognized the modicum of power he held, treating him with the undeserved respect that accompanies anyone who has the authority of the government behind them.

The council member relished any opportunity to discuss the very exclusive events that he often attended alongside donors, fellow politicians, and the small handful of individuals who were there as the attraction; people who actually did something other than leach off the public, or spend money in an attempt to raise their status in the eyes of the those equally trapped in the rat race of high dollar social hierarchy.

During the waning weeks of summer, in the mid morning hours, the council member arrived at SeaTac Airport, marking the end of another week long retreat at his Arizona estate. After a quick stop by the office in order to talk down to his staff, he was out and on the golf course by two in the afternoon.