We won.  Sweet Christ, we fucking won.

I convinced Megan to leave the apartment and go watch election coverage at a bar down the street around nine o’clock.  We’d already had a few before we left, as (preemptive novocaine)/(celebratory drinks).

When the news came in, the other side of bar saw their TV first, and began screaming and clapping.  Our side quickly turned to the TV to see that Obama is the next president of the United States.  Drinks were raised, and strangers were toasted.  There was a powerful feeling of good will, and personally, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.  Our country is finally on the right track.

We fucking won.

The Marine lesbian who had befriended us, Kee-linn*, informed us that she was heading out back of the bar to smoke a bowl, and that we were coming with her.  As we walked outside, I could heard cars honking their horns in celebration, and people from blocks around screaming.

I haven’t felt anything like this since I went to the Kerry rally in 2004.  The joy in the air is almost palpable.

*She wasn’t Asian. That’s just a phonetic spelling of what I think her name was.