Wouldn’t you just hate to be in line at the cafeteria behind “undecided voter”?

    He just can’t decide.

Not me. I’ll have the liver and onions with a side of rice and gravy and that funky broccoli salad with the raisins in it.

Before we go down the dark and judgy path in which I have to defend my love of butter-fried organ meats, let’s get back to my theory, which is: Undecided voters are most likely undecided about everything.

It must be paralyzing, this inability to stop kicking the tires and just get on with it. Oddly, in an election year, undecided voter is courted and cajoled by candidates like he or she is some kind of shaman. I’m not sure why we should reward undecided voter just for being the type of person who would hover over the festive red, green and blue gelatin cubes for a full minute while the rest of us roll our eyes in line behind him.

If the server asks undecided voter if he’d like extra whipped “topping” we could all be here for days.

I dunno. Should I? I mean, there’s arguments for and against…

While the cafeteria analogy is a bit on the nose, I think you get my point: Undecided voter doesn’t save this particular quirk for political elections. It’s a character trait. And every four years, it becomes not just an annoying tick to relatives and friends and strangers in line, but instead a popular, highly sought after “demographic.”

I have to admit undecided voter has always left me decidedly puzzled but never more so than this election.

I think journalists tasked with interviewing them have shown admirable restraint not to just look into the eyes of “still undecided Phil from Akron, Ohio” and say, “Damn, Phil, do you just eat a big bowl of stupid for breakfast every morning?”


Even this year, when there is a HISTORICALLY CLEAR CHOICE, undecided voter remains cagey until the very last satellite truck leaves Catgut, Georgia, its occupants still unable to wrench an answer to the most softball of questions.

How to explain Millie from Pennsylvania’s “It’s just a really hard decision” adding this irksome postscript: “There are good things and bad things about both candidates.” Arrrrgh.

How can I help you, Millie? Phil? What’s it gonna take to get you in that voting booth to-day?

To the many millions of us who have already voted, the notion there is anything left to discuss is crazy as a soup sandwich. Either you believe “Q” and think Donald Trump was sent to personally save us from a cabal of pedophile-loving Democrat bigwigs who snatch children using a system of tunnels under various pizza restaurants or…you are sane.

In a normal election year, undecided voter’s antics wouldn’t be so aneurysm inducing. You’re not “weighing the issues.” You just like the attention thinking maybe Lester Holt will chat you up at the Eggs Up Diner one snowy dark morning. Just get the sausage biscuit already.


Celia Rivenbark recommends “Cuckoo” for your next binge.