Mein Bumpf

Bump's Fabled Rise to Power

or

How My Husband Got Elected to the Condo Board

That sound that you hear? Yeah, that's the chanting masses.

[Bump! Bump! Bump! Bump!]

So, the Annual Meeting of the Condo Association. Meet your neighbors, hear what the board did last year, and find out what it has in store for next year. (read: are our condo fees going up again?)

The board is composed of seven members who serve two-year terms. Three of the seven board members were up for re-election this year.

[Elect! Elect! Elect! Elect!]

No owners signed up beforehand to be on the ballot, so nominations were taken from the floor. All three board members with expiring terms were nominated, although one member expressed some hesitation about serving again. With some cajoling, she agreed to be placed on the slate.

The slightly off-balance woman arranged to be nominated, again (more about her later).

Bump asked the President to review the board members' responsibilities, which are basically to attend a meeting once a month and not be an annoying gasbag (yeah, more later). The building manager (he of the great and glorious keys with the shiny and the jingling and OH MY GOD) immediately nominated Bump, interpreting the question as "interest." I can't comment on whether that interpretation was valid or not, but it was probably at least an exaggeration of what Bump was feeling when he posed the question.

[Elect! Elect! Elect! Elect!]

also

[run on sentence! run on sentence! run on sentence! but they're chanting masses, so it sounds more like mmmmsssst! mmsssttsptheu! mmmssttpptheu!]

So . . . meeting meeting meeting . . . blah blah blah, let's have the candidates say something about themselves.

Bump gave our unit number, detailed how long we've lived there, what he did before and now he's a stay-home dad, and dropped that his wife served as a past President of the board so he can make use of my expertise. (That would be "expertise" with air quotes and a stupid grin. Only Bump forgot to use the sarcasm when he said the word.)

Me: look doubtful and maybe roll my eyes a little bit.

You: Wait! You were on the condo board?

Yes. (roll eyes so far back my optic nerve hurts) More later.

[Vote! Vote! Vote! Vote!]

The building manager looks at me and says, after the ballots are collected, "I let Bump off the hook, I didn't vote for him." (Q: Wait, there was a tense change? When did that happen? A: When my optic nerve started to hurt and I wrote the word "expertise." It was like "armageddon" in The Hunt for Red October.)

The building manager's vote is pretty important, because he collects the proxies of the owners who don't attend the meeting. So he's not just voting once, he votes for all of the non-present owners who bother to sign a form. And did I mention he has keys?

So the votes are tallied, and the winners are . . .

The three current board members.

Duh. I mean, the building manager let Bump off the hook, right?

Then a question is asked. "Who came in fourth?"

Now, I thought this was just mean. I mean, why make someone feel bad? Also, I hope Bump at least had a better showing than the slightly off-balance woman.

It's important, someone says, because if there is a vacancy on the board, the fourth-place finisher would step in.

So, indeed, Bump finished fourth.

And the board member? the one who was hesitant about running again? Immediately resigns.

Bump is on the board.

[Default! Default! Default! Default!]

Wow, that was a fragmented, really annoying way to tell a story. I blame the masses.

So I promised more later, but I think I'll talk about it in another post. I don't want to steal Bump's thunder. Also, this is already pretty long. Plus, I want those masses to disperse.