ALEXANDRA: Do you miss it?

MICHAEL: Is that what we’re chanting now? DO! YOU! MISS! IT! DO! YOU! MISS!

ALEXANDRA: Stop that, Michael. No. It’s a question.

MICHAEL: I can’t hear a word you’re saying, Alex. We’re surrounded by thousands of chanting, slow-moving people who keep apologizing for smacking me while my eyes seem to be at the exact same level as the corner of every foam-core placard out here. You have to speak louder.

ALEXANDRA: Do you miss it?

MICHAEL: Miss what, Alex?

ALEXANDRA: Before. Back when we were… I dunno… not involved? Not evolved? Still binge-watching political dramas without pining for a time when those dystopian plot lines seemed implausible?

MICHAEL: You mean when we used to only read the Sunday Styles section of the Times, then bound off for brunch, Bikram yoga, and an art exhibit?

ALEXANDRA: Yeah. That.

MICHAEL: If we bounce in place, we can probably still hit our Fitbit goals for today.

ALEXANDRA: It’s not just that. I mean, all this calling is sending me mad. Gah. The last thing I want to use my phone for is making calls.

MICHAEL: You’re on way too many of those call-to-action mailing lists.

ALEXANDRA: That’s the price you pay for signing petitions and subscribing to Vanity Fair. Oh, wait. I see a mailbox over there on the corner. Think you can get close enough to reach it before we shuffle past? I have about twenty or so postcards in my pocket I’ve been carrying around since last weekend.

MICHAEL: But Flynn resigned. We did that, right?

ALEXANDRA: I think technically the Russians did that, but let’s take the win.

MICHAEL: I wish there was more we could do. I feel so impotent and deceived. In a rage-fueled purge I threw out both the vodka and the dressing. Then I just felt empty and like I needed a martini. But there I was sans vodka and pants.

ALEXANDRA: Why no pants?

MICHAEL: They suddenly felt so patriarchal.

ALEXANDRA: Probably the blend. And not to make a mountain, but you know that vodka wasn’t Russian, right? Puff Daddy makes that.

MICHAEL: The one with the circle on it? Shit. Now I feel racist. And so do you. Because I’m pretty sure he isn’t calling himself that anymore.

ALEXANDRA: Are you sure? I feel like I would have noticed if they were calling him something else with all those golden shower jokes going around last month.

MICHAEL: R. Kelly.

ALEXANDRA: What?

MICHAEL: R Kelly is the musician that likes golden showers.

ALEXANDRA: I get so confused. You know they all…

MICHAEL: Nope. Don’t say it. Especially in this crowd.

ALEXANDRA: GODDAMNIT. Six months ago I couldn’t have named a single cabinet member and now I know them all. AND all my state representatives. AND both their local and DC office numbers by heart. I can’t be expected to remember the sexual foibles of all ’90s rappers!

MICHAEL: 2017. It will forever be known as the year we all had to finally grow up.

ALEXANDRA: I just want to go home and do some meditative coloring while listening to Terry Gross. Did you happen to notice if my Notorious RBG coloring book arrived? I swear I’m getting carpal tunnel between all the zen coloring and the postcards.

MICHAEL: When I’m not consumed with anger over their shady voting practices, I sometimes daydream about living in Florida. These Keens are doing nothing to keep my feet warm.

ALEXANDRA: The sky and my mood are grayer than 45’s cabinet. There aren’t even any holidays to look forward to.

MICHAEL: Easter is coming up, isn’t it? Wait. Do we still wish people “Happy Easter” or is there some sort of broader greeting that encompasses Passover, too? Is there a Jew-adjacent equivalent for the Muslim faith? Everyone eats chocolate, right? Can I just give everyone a piece of chocolate and say, “Get Sprung?” I CAN’T KEEP TRACK OF ALL THE ENDLESS EXECUTIVE ORDERS AND DO MY DUE DILIGENCE TO MAINTAIN INCLUSIVITY. This pace is less sustainable than Mariah Carey’s high note at New Year’s. Seriously I’m freezing. If you aren’t going to wear it, may I borrow your pussy hat?

ALEXANDRA: Oh. I didn’t bring it. It was beginning to reek of weed and patchouli. Asking Rosa to wash it seemed like a total oppressor move, so I tried to do it myself. Long story short, now it’s too small for even our sweet Russian Blue. Which is a shame, because I was kind of getting into the meta-ness of a pussy hat on a pussy cat. Oh man, we don’t have to get rid of Kittary Klinton, do we?

MICHAEL: Has it really only been a month? I mean, I shit myself less during that Master Cleanse detox thing. I don’t know how we’re going to sustain this for another three years and eleven months.

ALEXANDRA: Well, it won’t be by whiling away the time on social media. On Twitter, I quit following anyone other than the rogue intern and National Park feeds. Then on Facebook last night, some guy from high school messaged me to ask why I was pro Sanctuary Cities. Have you ever?

MICHAEL: That’s a good question, though. Why are we pro Sanctuary Cities? I mean, we are, aren’t we?

ALEXANDRA: OF COURSE WE ARE. I mean, CHRIST, Michael. The word “sanctuary” is in the title.

MICHAEL: Good enough for me. What did you tell him?

ALEXANDRA: I didn’t really know what to say. So I sent him a link to a Samantha Bee video. Speaking of which, are you still having a reaction to the cheap cotton of that “Bad Dude” shirt?

MICHAEL: It’s OK. I still think the v-neck would have conveyed more of an LGBTQ-ally vibe, but I’m willing to make a little sacrifice for such an important cause. It’s for an important one, right? Immigration reform?

ALEXANDRA: Possibly Planned Parenthood? I’m starting to get them mixed up. I think the NEVERTHELESS SHE PERSISTED shirt is for something immigration-related.

MICHAEL: Just so long as you didn’t buy it at Macy’s.

ALEXANDRA: Heaven forbid. Not until they refuse to carry anymore of HER clothing and accessories.

MICHAEL: Right. We vote with our dollars. Except…

ALEXANDRA: Except what, Michael?

MICHAEL: We aren’t really boycotting Amazon, are we?

ALEXANDRA: Let’s give them a week or so to see if they can do the right thing. I mean, we still haven’t finished assembling our go bags.