Voter Vacillates Between Wishy and Washy

With election day less than a week away and the presidential race still a tossup, I figured it was high time to learn more about The Undecided Voter. I found one curled up in a corner at a local bookstore, reading a copy of “Ten Steps Toward Becoming More Decisive.”

“Hey, how you doing?” I asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Excuse me? You’re not sure how you’re doing?”

“Well, I think I’m doing OK, but who can really say for sure?”

“Hmm. Most people know how they’re doing. You’re either doing well or you’re doing poorly. Or somewhere in between.”

“I was OK yesterday, but today I’m not. Who can say about next week. So, I guess I’m somewhere in between.”

“I’m wondering if you know who you’re voting for for president.”

“Nope, I can’t decide.”

“Could I buy you a cup of coffee and talk about the election?”

“I guess so.”

We crossed the street to a coffeehouse, where I ordered a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. The Undecided Voter wavered between a double decaf latte and a caramel frappuccino.

“I almost always go with the decaf, but the frappuccino sounds kind of interesting,” he said. “On the other hand, the frappuccino might keep me awake tonight.”

Twenty-five minutes later, he settled on the latte. In the meantime, I’d drunk three hot chocolates.

“Twelve- or 16-ounce?” the cashier asked him.

With that, The Undecided Voter threw up his hands and began to tremble. “I’ll just have some water, please,” he said.

We sat at a corner table.

“I’m the kind of person who thinks there’s a right and wrong answer, and I’m afraid to make a mistake, so I don’t go either way. This morning, it took me 45 minutes to dress.”

“What hung you up?”

“Khaki or olive slacks,” he said.

I nodded. “And just now, you had the latte-frappuccino thing.”

“Exactly. This happens all the time. I don’t like to have bad experiences, so I tend to be overly cautious.”

“But you wound up with water.”

He hung his head. “I like water,” he said weakly.

“The polls suggest that people like you are going to determine the next president,” I said.

No sooner had the words left my mouth than he began trembling again.

“That’s a huge responsibility,” he said solemnly.

“With all due respect, millions of other people have made up their minds. What’s taking you so long?”

“I envy them. Yet, part of me says, ‘What’s the rush?’ ”

“What’s the rush? The election is in six days. Have you studied the issues, the candidates?”

“Sure. Bush is the Republican who wants a new era in Washington. Gore is the Democrat who wants to keep things going. Some people say Bush isn’t smart enough to be president, but that Gore is too smart. How am I supposed to sort through all that?”

He began to perspire ever so slightly around the temples.

“Do you want another water?” I asked.

“Uh, if I have another water--”

“Never mind,” I said. “OK, simplify your choice: Do you want a new era or to keep things going?”

“That’s your idea of simple? I couldn’t decide if I wanted a stick shift or automatic on my last car. Paper or plastic drives me nuts. I never know whether to cash or charge.”

As we got up to leave, he debated with himself whether to leave a 75-cent or one-dollar tip. “I’m a little conflicted,” he said. “They don’t really serve you at the table, yet they do make the drinks.”

“Have you considered not voting at all?” I said. “Just let the rest of us decide?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’d have to think about that for a while.”

We parted company, with me desperately wanting to follow him into the voting booth next week to see how he resolves things.

“So you’re still undecided, right?” I asked.

“Definitely,” he said. “I mean, I think so.”

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.