Raj for Congress

As I drove out of my office parking lot today with the intention of going to the Subway for lunch, the first thing I saw was a number of signs on the street that proclaimed, "Raj For Congress". Naturally, it piqued my interest. Who was this Raj, I wondered. Did I know him?

I followed the signs. Curiously enough, they appeared to be taking the same hungry route to the Subway as I was. They even entered the parking lot of the Subway which, incidentally, it shares with the only Indian restaurant in this area. The owner of this restaurant who I've written about here, was standing outside, wearing a suit, which was kinda strange because I've never seen this guy wearing a suit. Sullen, anti-mankind expression yes, suit no.

Good God, I said to myself, is this the Raj who's running for Congress? My head started to swim with the implications of this possibility. What's gonna happen to the Indian restaurant then? Would Mr Raj have to rename the joint Billy-Bob's Ye Olde Beef and Ale and start selling burgers and beer in order to appeal to the Pennsylvanian voter base? Dammit, that would be a tragedy. Where do I go then for my weekly fix of lamb roganjosh, chicken cashmere and Kingfisher lager? I felt a pit forming in the bottom of my stomach where Indian food would normally have nestled, but was now in a danger of not nestling because of Raj's Congressional ambitions.

No, this wouldn't do. He needed to be brought down fast. The restaurant needed him. The hundreds of kababhead Desis in this area needed him. I rushed back to the office intending to write a scathing anti-Raj-for-Congress article and post it on the blog along with a link to the story of how he wanted to con me out of my lunch special. This would turn public opinion against him and solve my food crisis.

The first thing I did after I returned was to google the bugger. Which was an intelligent thing to do because this is what I found. Well, it turns out that Raj wasn't the restaurant owner at all. This was someone else. A much younger handsomer guy who's apparently made an appearance on Donald Trump's The Apprentice. And moreover, the reason for all the "Raj for Congress" signs outside the restaurant were only because he likes the food there ( I guess), 'cause I've spotted him eating at that joint a few times. Gah, there goes my exposè, I thought.

Then, I went through his campaign manifesto and there were a few things I liked in spite of the fact that he's a Republican. For example, he claims to be "not your typical Republican" and an avid environmentalist. And he is all for reducing the bureaucratic red tape involved in foreign graduate students becoming citizens of this country. Don't we all want that? Sure we do. Plus, he was apparently invited to the Daily Show with Jon Stewart and he accepted, which was a gutsy move, whereas his opponent, Allison Schwartz refused. Shame on you, Miss Schwartz, I would have expected a Democrat to show more testicles.

But most of all, I liked his stance on tightening up border security. Which I'm all for 'cause man, those goddamn immigrants from New Jersey just won't quit crossing the border into Pennsylvania. And even after they arrive here, they won't adapt to the Pennsylvanian way of life. Most of them don't even know what a hoagie is. And the bastards continue to cheer for the New York Giants when every Pennsylvanian knows that to do that while living in this state, which is home to the Philadelphia Eagles, is tantamount to treason. Now I know that New Jerseyians do the jobs Pennsylvanians refuse to do, such as live in New Jersey, but still, if today you let New Jerseyians in, what's to stop Delawarians from following their example tomorrow and scurrying across the state boundary into what is now known as Pennsylvania's Delaware county, the name of which proves that the immigrant threat we face as Pennsylvanians is not just a figment of my own imagination?

So you go girl, Mr Raj Peter Bhakta. I am on your side and will support you in your Congressional campaign. And this blogpost will be my humble contribution. Plus, of course, I will continue to patronize the restaurant owned by someone I thought was you. If that counts.