Donkey punch: Dating your political foe

My friend returned from a recent party gushing about some hot girl he was considering asking out . . . until he heard her raving about Bush. Had she been referring to the unkempt fringe between her thighs, he probably could have stomached it. But to him, the capital-B former president made for a far more offensive reference.

 

"I might still ask her out," he said, "only to see if I can talk some sense into her."

"Good luck with that," I laughed, knowing that he's about as likely to date a Republican as I am to start loving blowjobs.

I say with pride that I have not dated (nor would I ever date) a member of the opposing political party. Personally, I apply the tired logic of opposites attracting to things like hair color, not to my core belief system. Maybe, just maybe, I'd make an exception for a lingerie model who thinks supporting the Tea Party means bringing sugar cubes. Barring that, I'm perfectly content with my (borderline) socialist girlfriend. 

I had assumed we represented the politically paired norm, working in lockstep toward our shared utopian vision. But one Internet survey stunned me with its stat: nearly 70 percent of respondents said they would have a long-term relationship with someone with opposing political views.

How can this be? We reject one another on such superficial standards as height, hobbies, and hairlines. But when it comes to personal politics, we can somehow adopt an apathetic stance or act like the only Middle East we know is the club in Cambridge?

But apparently many of you have figured out a way to make bipartisan boinking work. "I am marrying [my political opposite]," admitted one friend whose incessant chatter prevents her fiancé from ever actually speaking his views. "It's not easy."

"Keep it superficial," suggested another friend, adding that she'd overlook the offending political persuasion of a 10, while a mere 7 would have to be of her ilk.

"I thought I was being open-minded and would become more understanding of different viewpoints," said one friend who dated across the aisle. "What I actually learned was that some critical building blocks were missing and it couldn't grow."

Surprisingly, some of my stauncher liberal friends claim to have had great sex with Republicans. So you're telling me the same people who want to police our sex lives, revert to chastity belts for sex ed, and govern our wombs are good in bed? Apparently I need to better appreciate the virtues of hate fucking.

Full disclosure: I do have a couple of friends and some misguided family members of differing political persuasions. Usually, our conversations regarding politics are either very heated or quickly squelched and thereafter avoided. Speaking of avoidance, it's usually the top recommendation for couples trying to make a two-party system work.

But how do you avoid these topics with the person with whom you're supposed to share everything? And why would you want heated conversations in your relationship to revolve around anything other than lingerie and fireplaces? 

Perhaps you inter-party daters out there are flush with qualities more admirable than my own. Lucky you. You've managed to meet all of your superficial needs in a relationship without having to worry about substance.

And for those of you thinking that you can persuade a mate to join your team, you'd better plan to work some vaginal voodoo this election year. It's going to be a messy one. Personally, in my relationship, we're going to keep it as one big party.

Jeannie Greeley is a freelance writer who doesn't want to date the elephant in the room. She's very happy with the ass she's getting. She can be reached at jeannieg@comcast.net.