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astralaffairs · 4 years

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concept: first lady mc reads of fotp!tjeff’s speeches and edits them for all the things she thinks are stupid or unethical. and he’s like “sweetheart, my party isn’t ready for universal healthcare. i can’t be pissing people off within the first month of my presidency.” but she couldn’t give a fuck and continues marking up his speeches with a red pen all while insisting he gets a new speech writer.

y'all need 2 STOP hitting me w concepts i like this much i have 0 self control and WILL write every damn one of them. there are like 4 sitting in my inbox rn smh.

(by which i mean pls keep sending me concepts like this i love writing fotp drabbles)

---

"What're you still doin' up?"

Y/N's eyebrows shot up as she looked up; a small, tired smile graced her lips as Thomas entered their bedroom, shaking his blazer off as the door fell shut behind him. "Hey. I'm glad you're back," she said softly. "I've just been tying up a few final loose ends with what I've been working on before I go to sleep."

"Can it wait until the morning?" he asked. He laid his blazer on the back of a chair at the side of the room before immediately starting to loosen his tie. "It's gettin' late. And I miss spendin' time with you. You work too much."

She scoffed, but her smile was only growing at his words. "Did you, the President of the United States, just tell me that I work too much?" He rolled his eyes as she spoke, just discarding his tie on the floor beside their bed. "That really is rich coming from you."

"Yeah, yeah, make fun all you want," he said, crossing the room to join her on their couch, "but you always overwork yourself, and you know it. You've been doin' it for as long as I've known you."

"Alright, I'll come to bed in a few minutes." He took a seat behind her, and when he rested his hand on her inner thigh, it sent shivers rippling across her skin. She looked up. "You go get some sleep. I'll finish this quickly. I promise."

"What're you workin' on, anyway?" She didn't protest when he withdrew the paper from her lap, glancing over it, and the corners of his lips quirked up. "Is this the address I'm givin' on Friday?"

"The very same."

"You shouldn't be losin' sleep over this," he said matter-of-factly, turning his head back toward her as he squeezed the top of her thigh lightly. "Either lose sleep spendin' time with your dear, sweet husband who's fucking sick of thinkin' about legislation, or just come to bed, hm?"

He passed her back the paper, instead looping an arm around her waist as he kicked his legs up onto their coffee table, and when he pulled her in to rest against his shoulder, she put up no protest.

"Just five more minutes. I promise." The barely-concealed yawn in her voice made Thomas look down at her skeptically.

"Alright, but I'm holdin' you to that. If you're still working in five minutes, I'll carry you to bed myself."

"No complaints here." She turned her head to kiss the corner of his mouth gently before she turned back to her paper, fidgeting with her red pen as she reached the last page of the document. Thomas's eyes had fallen shut; he was more than content to just sit there with her until she finished, as he had no desire whatsoever to think anymore about pushing his healthcare bill through Congress.

He opened his eyes when Y/N scoffed. Her pen ran down the page in a long slash, and she was pursing her lips as she jotted notes in the margins, but it made Thomas furrow his brow.

"Hey, now, what was so wrong with that paragraph?"

"Seriously?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow, glancing back at him. "You keep treating healthcare like it's some privilege that poor people should have to grovel at the feet of the rich to have access to. It can't be conditional like this."

"I'm not actin' like that," he defended. "I'm just sayin', hiking up taxes threefold isn't a sustainable way to fund this. It'd be an overreach from Congress. We've gotta use money efficiently."

"You fucking libertarian," she muttered. "The part of the bill about work requirements is gonna get killed in Congress. There's no way the House Democrats will vote to pass it unless you get rid of that."

"What's that got to do with my speech?"

"You're misrepresenting the legislation if you keep that paragraph," she said, proceeding to scribble out a sentence in the paragraph after. "And get rid of this. If you're trying to implement a public option, focusing on the private sector will get you nowhere. You're just gonna make people angry."

"I'm not 'misrepresenting' anything." He scowled. "Both those things are important for the bill."

"But this isn't a bill, Thomas; it's a speech," she huffed. "Anyway, the legislation needs to be universalized, or you can't 'mitigate poverty' how you claim to. Do you have any idea how many of the people who can't meet the work requirements on healthcare are going to end up in poverty because they can't afford the care they need?"

"I hear you," he started, "but this is the best way to make it more affordable without tankin' the economy."

"Have you even considered capital gains taxes?"

"That's gonna kill entrepreneurship."

"You're so full of it sometimes," Y/N scoffed. "'Entrepreneurs' won't be affected. It only affects, like, Jeff Bezos and Mark Zuckerberg, and they have so many assets that it literally doesn't matter."

"I'm not gonna sit here and argue with you about this. I'm not sayin' you're wrong, but I am sayin' this bill needs to be somethin' I can convince the Senate to pass," he said, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Then write a new bill that doesn't mean the people who are the worst off don't get coverage," she said, jotting that down on the side of the paper, "because this doesn't resolve the issue."

"I'll bring it up when I get the chance," he assured her, and she glanced back at him with a grateful smile. "Can I ask why this is so important to you?"

"Because I'm an empathetic person, and I care about people?" she replied, tone scathing, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Woah, there. That wasn't an attack, sweetheart," he said. "What's got you worked up?"

"I'm not 'worked up,'” she bit back, but when he gave her an apologetic look, gaze soft, her annoyance began to subside. “This is just a sore subject for me." Y/N finally lowered the paper in her lap, turning her head toward Thomas. "I know I've told you about how long my parents spent in the hospital before they passed."

"Yeah. Yeah, you have," he said softly. He turned, orienting himself in Y/N's direction so he could pull her into his lap, and while she sighed, she laid back against his chest.

"When they died, I was left with most of their healthcare debt," she continued. "I was living far below the poverty line for almost a decade because of it."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, and she laced her fingers into his with his arms around her waist.

"It was a long time ago," she replied. "I just don't want anyone else to end up in anything like the situation I was in. Nobody deserves that."

"No, they don't. I'll see what I can get past Congress." He kissed the side of her neck, and she hummed contentedly, squeezing his hands. "But I've still gotta discuss my plan for healthcare on Friday, so stop demolishing my speech."

"You asked me to look over it," she said frankly, and though her eyes had fallen shut when she laid against him, she cracked one open to glance at him skeptically. "These are my edits. Change the bill."

"That's an awful weighty edit, sweetheart."

"Hey, I also improved your phrasing," she went on, holding his paper up where they could both see it. "I'm making your speech better, don't complain about it."

"You cut my section about deductibles?"

"No one wants to talk about deductibles, babe." She tapped the paper with the back of her pen. "They want to know whether they'll be insured or not. They won't listen to the nuances of your bill in your public address. You're going to need a press release for that."

"And the part about family values?"

"It was useless." She shrugged. "I know you're just pandering to your party and all, but it sounded stupid in the context of the speech."

"Harsh," Thomas said, and the offense in his voice was mostly dramatized. Y/N pursed her lips. "But I can't be breachin' party lines in this speech. I'm not gonna get anything done if I turn the Senate Republicans against me."

"Listen, I'm not a political strategist, so that's your prerogative," she said matter-of-factly. "But if you don't like my feedback on your speeches, then hire a damn speechwriter, Thomas."

He hummed reluctantly. "But havin' you review my speeches gives me an excuse to spend more time with you. I don't have a whole lotta interest in having even longer meetings with White House staffers."

"Then take my edits to heart." She pursed her lips. "You know very well that I'm the only reason you have bipartisan support. If I didn't pick fights with you once a week about green energy, all the Democrats would still oppose all your stances on it."

"I'll look back over the speech in the mornin', then," he decided, and she shifted on the couch to face him, legs still draped over his lap. "I trust you."

"Good," she replied, and she looped her arms around his neck as she pulled herself up to kiss him. "But stop exploiting my degree in journalism."

"I'm not exploitin' it."

"Then what do you consider asking your wife to edit your speeches pro-bono to be?"

"A nice li'l side effect of managin' to convince someone so smart to marry me." She laughed as he pulled her back in to kiss him, but she gasped when he bit her lip teasingly, and his mouth drifted down her neck. "I love you," he murmured against her skin.

"I love you, too."

With that, Thomas hooked his arm up under her legs, and his smile widened against her neck when she yelped as he picked her up. "Now, I seem to remember sayin' something about carryin' you to bed if you were workin' for more than five minutes, so you don't get to negotiate anymore."

She squirmed in his grasp, but any of her efforts to get out of his arms weren't in earnest. She huffed. "So much for respecting personal liberty. Just wait until your voting bloc finds out all that rhetoric was just a lie."

"Oh, hush, let's not pretend you mind," he said as he tossed her down onto their bed, and she bounced when her back hit the mattress. He didn't hesitate to climb on after her. Though she tried to pull herself up to rest on the throw pillows, Thomas was on his hands and knees above her; she didn't have much of a range of movement when he dipped down to kiss her. "If you did, you wouldn't have married me."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Jefferson," she grumbled, despite wrapping her arms around his neck. "Talk all you want, but I dunno how smug you're gonna be when I up and leave you one of these days."

He grinned. "You know I don't buy that for a second." She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched upward when he kissed her forehead. "You love me too much."

Despite everything, Y/N could feel herself flush. "Just go put on some pajamas so we can go to sleep."

"Alright, if you insist," he huffed, rolling off of her. "Be right back."

"You'd better hurry, or I might run off with Dolley and elope," she called after him, and Thomas laughed.

"'S cute, but we both know you aren't goin' anywhere."

"And why not?"

He raised a confident brow. "I'll tie you down if that's what it takes to keep you here, sweetheart."

"Wouldn't be the first time," she mumbled, turning to discard the throw pillows from the bed onto the floor.

When she looked back at him, his grin was still wide, smug, but the look in his eyes was soft. She pursed her lips as her own smile broadened. "Now go change. I'm not going to sleep without you."

"Fine. You need some rest.”

“Yeah. So do you.”

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Breakable Heaven (pt. II) - p.l. dubois

Part I

Part two is here! Things start to heat up in this chapter, exciting stuff’s happening! I hope you guys like reading it as much as I’m loving writing - please slide into my inbox, let me know what you think! Reblogs are amazing too, it’s how we know people are liking what we’re putting out and helps to reach more people! (Plus it’s one of the joys of my life to read the tags. Seriously, so much fun.)

Part II (7.2k)

June 18 (fri)

“If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to sell it,” Laurel said, running a hand through her hair. “The fewer people who know the truth, the better.”

Pierre nodded. “Agreed.” He sat back in his chair. “What do you think your parents will say?”

Laurel laughed. “Uh, they think I’m seeing someone, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “it was easier to just say I had a boyfriend than deal with their endless pestering, you know?”

“So they’d buy it if you just told them you were getting married?”

She shrugged. “I think so. You know we’re not particularly close, they haven’t met any of my boyfriends since I was in high school. So if I told them I was engaged, I don’t think they’d bat an eye, if I’m honest.” Pierre could sense there was more to the story, more that she wasn’t telling him, but he didn’t want to press. “What about yours?” she asked.

“Well, we’ve got a couple options,” Pierre said, cracking a smile and leaning back into the cushions. “It was a drunken mistake.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Then they’d just tell us to get a divorce.”

“We fell in love after the first date.”

“Even less believable,” Laurel said, the corner of her lip twitching.

“Or…,” Pierre said, kicking his feet up on the ottoman, a wicked grin on his face, “I got you pregnant and want to do the right thing.”

Laurel snorted. “Little issue there.”

“What?”

“I’m not pregnant.”

Pierre ducked his head, blushing. “Right. There’s that.”

She nodded. “There’s that.” She tapped her fingers on the coffee table. “I’ve got it.” Pierre looked up. “We’ve been friends for a long time, couple years or something. Madeline went to York, so we met when you and Patrice came to visit. We realized we had feelings for each other a few months ago, everything moved super quickly since we already knew each other and had that foundation.”

“So we thought ‘why wait,’” Pierre finished.

“Exactly,” Laurel said. “Why wait, if we already knew.”

“It’s a classic friends-to-lovers story, a tale as old as time,” he sighed wistfully.

Laurel slapped his shoulder. “This is serious,” she said, but she was smiling all the same. “Okay, so we’ve at least got that worked out. Madeline and Patrice will obviously know, but other than that…” She trailed off.

He nodded, and an understanding passed between them. “It’s a need-to-know basis.”

“It is.” Laurel shifted her laptop on the coffee table, squeezing closer to Pierre so he could see the screen. “So, we have to go down to the courthouse for a meeting with the court clerk who will perform the ceremony, bring birth certificates and ID, and —”

He glanced over at Laurel, her tongue caught between her teeth. “And?”

“You have to publish a declaration of intent to marry twenty days before the wedding. Online. In public.”

Pierre looked oblivious. “So?”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “So, it has the date of the wedding and our full names and our whole entire addresses. And in case you’ve forgotten, you’re kind of a professional hockey player.”

He shrugged. “All due respect, Laurel, but,” he glanced at the website, “who actually checks these things?” He had a point there, she thought, but she wasn’t about to let him win.

“But your address, you’re not worried about that getting out there?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “But my building’s got a receptionist and I’ve got locks on my doors. And plus,” Pierre added, “I’ve really never had much of a problem flying under the radar here. When I go back home, back to the suburbs, sure. And a little bit in Columbus, obviously. But there’s what, two million people in Montréal? I’m not on the Habs, so even the hockey fans here really couldn’t care less.”

She laughed. “Fair enough. Also, uh, living situation. We should probably talk about that.”

“You’re moving in with me?” He said it like a question, but not as if it was something that would surprise him, or something he was opposed to. He said it like it was something he already knew the answer to. “I’ve got three rooms, plenty of space, Phil and Georgia would love to have a new sister. You and Piper would fit right in,” he said, reaching down to scratch her behind the ears. “Plus it’s got a great gym in the lobby, you can cancel your membership to that seedy place downtown with that trainer who always stares at you when you do weights.” Laurel’s ears perked up; she was surprised he remembered. She did have a gym downtown that she tried to make it to a few times a week, and there was that one creepy trainer, but she had only mentioned it to him once in passing. “Plus it has hot yoga once a week, and I know you’ve been dying to try.” That much was true.

“At least let me help pay for rent,” she tried to bargain.

“Nope!” he said, wincing a second later. “I didn’t mean it in like a patronizing way, I know you’re perfectly capable of pulling your own weight. I meant like I bought it outright, so there’s no rent to be paid. I’ll let you pay the electricity bill if you want?”

Laurel grinned. “That would make me feel better, thank you.” After looking at her computer for a minute, she spoke again. “How long have you had the apartment for?”

Pierre scratched his chin. “Couple years? I bought it after signing the contract this year. Some guys buy a Lamborghini, I bought an apartment. I don’t own the place in Columbus though.”

“How come?” Laurel asked, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

“Even with the contract, so much is up in the air. I could get traded in the middle of the season, or in the summer or whenever, and I don’t want to have just bought a house when I’ve got to move to Vancouver or wherever when the ink hasn’t even dried on the papers.”

This time, it was Laurel’s turn to leave with an unsaid question. “Is tomorrow good? To go down and get everything squared away at the courthouse?”

He bobbed his head. “Yeah, I’ve got some off-ice training in the morning, but any time after noon or so is good for me.”

Laurel nodded, making a few taps on her computer. “Okay, I’ve got us booked in at one, that good?”

“Yeah,” Pierre said, nodding in affirmation. “Now I’ve got to come up with an excuse to drive to my parents’ and get my birth certificate.”

---

It didn’t actually turn out to be all that difficult for Pierre; he made the drive back to Saint-Agathe-des-Monts later that afternoon, telling his parents he needed it to renew his health insurance card. He wasn’t sure they actually believed him, but his mom didn’t bat an eye before handing it over. Pierre spent the rest of the evening at home, cooking pasta, petting the dogs, and wondering what in the hell he had agreed to. He wasn’t second-guessing himself, not by a long-shot, but when she clicked that button to book their appointment, the gravity of the situation finally started to hit him. In less than a month, he was going to be getting married.

June 19 (sat)

Laurel met Pierre on the steps of the Montréal courthouse at a quarter to one the next day, clutching the straps of her tote like a lifeline. “Woah, Laurel, you’re holding that like you’ve got a bomb in there,” Pierre said.

She flashed him a nervous smile. “No bomb, just very official very legal documents. Don’t want to lose it.”

He held out his hand. “You ready?”

Laurel was surprised at the gesture. Not shocked that he was being kind, but that he was cognizant enough to recognize that she was nervous, and wanted to do something about it. She took his hand. “Ready.”

It only took a minute to find the office, and a few more before the receptionist called them back to the clerk’s office. She introduced herself as Juliette Bergeron, congratulated them on their engagement, and asked to see the paperwork. Passports and birth certificates were handed over, signatures were signed on dotted lines, and half an hour later, they walked out of the courthouse with an appointment for a wedding on July 10.

“Well, there’s that crossed off the checklist,” Laurel said, leaning up against the handrails as they stood on the courthouse steps. They had actually made a real checklist, a series of tasks on a shared Notes page of everything that needed to be completed before the wedding. Book the ceremony and post the public notice were done, but there were still a dozen-odd tasks left before they actually could get married. Starting with telling their parents. While they had developed as airtight a cover story as she supposed one could when they were committing what would charitably be referred to as citizenship fraud, they had agreed it was going to be far less messy to “come clean” as fiancés than after the wedding. Laurel had wanted to text them the news, or call so early they’d still be asleep and she could just avoid the conversation altogether, but Pierre had convinced her to FaceTime. “I know you guys aren’t super close, but I think they deserve that much, Laurel,” he had said, and he was right. Deep down, she knew he was right.

“Ready?” Pierre asked, rubbing her back soothingly.

Laurel flashed him a tight smile before pressing her mom’s contact. “As I’ll ever be.” Three agonizingly long rings later, her mom picked up.

“Laurel? What are you doing calling, honey? Is everything okay?”

She let out a nervous giggle. “Does something have to be wrong for me to call my parents?”

“No,” Cheryl clucked, “but to be fair, you don’t call often.”

Laurel rubbed the back of her neck in discomfort. “That’s true. Uh, anyways, is dad there?”

“He’s in the kitchen,” her mom said, starting to catch onto the fact that maybe this wasn’t quite your run-of-the-mill check-in call. “What’s this all about, pumpkin?”

The old term of endearment, one she hadn’t heard in years, brought tears to the corners of her eyes. “Can you call him in? I’d rather tell you both at the same time.”

Cheryl nodded, worry crossing her brow. “Doug? Laurel’s on the phone, she’s got something to tell us. Sounds important.”

“Coming,” Laurel heard her dad say in the background. A moment later, he padded into view. “Hey, Laurel, Mom said you’ve got some news?”

Laurel nodded. “Yeah, just something I thought you guys should know. It’s not bad, you’re just going to be surprised, so I need you to keep an open mind, okay?”

“Who is he?” Doug asked, rubbing his forehead with an exasperated expression.

She blanched. “He? Who’s he?” There’s no way he guessed...right?

“The jackass who got you pregnant, who else?”

Laurel almost choked on her own spit. “Pregnant? Who said I’m pregnant? I’m not pregnant!”

Both of her parents let out an audible sigh of relief. “Well, Laurel, what conclusion did you expect us to jump to when you called us out of the blue and said you had important news?”

Laurel bit her lip; they had a point. “Fair. But, uh, rest assured, I’m not pregnant. I’m smarter than that.” She paused, steeling her nerves. “Remember that guy I told you I was seeing a few months ago?”

Her mom squinted like she was looking into the sun. “Vaguely? You didn’t really tell us much about him. Just that he was tall, nice, you met through friends.” It was a believable enough explanation back then, and Laurel was beyond grateful it dovetailed perfectly into the story she and Pierre had conjured up. “You didn’t even tell us his name.”

Laurel reached out her free hand, the one that wasn’t holding the phone, and made a grabby motion for his hand. He interlaced his fingers with hers. “Well, his name’s Pierre-Luc Dubois—”

Doug interrupted. “Very French.”

She grimaced. “I do live in Québec, Dad. But anyways, his name’s Pierre-Luc Dubois and we’re getting married.”

They sat still on the other end of the call, so still that if it weren’t for her mom’s rapid blinking she would have thought the call had been dropped. “Married?” her mom asked softly.

“Yes, married.”

“How long have you even been seeing each other?” Doug asked, dumbfounded.

“A little under six months. I know it’s not long, and I know it seems sudden, but we’ve known each other for a long time, you know? We met when I was still back in Toronto at university, Madeline introduced us.” Her parents nodded; Madeline, they knew. Madeline, they had met. Madeline, they trusted. “And we finally realized a little bit after New Year’s that we had feelings for each other, and it’s sort of been zero to a hundred ever since. We thought, if we knew we loved each other and we knew we were done looking, then what was the point of waiting for a year or two for it to be a ‘socially acceptable’ time to get married.” Laurel finished.

Cheryl wrapped her hands around her mug of tea, eyelids still shooting rapid-fire blinks at the screen. “But, Laurel, we haven’t even met this boy, we barely know anything about him!”

Pierre squeezed her hand. “Actually, he’s just off-camera. Want to say hi, P?”

He walked into view, waving politely at the screen. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Klerken, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Laurel’s had nothing but wonderful things to say.” A little flattery never hurt anybody, he thought.

“Lovely to meet you, Pierre-Luc,” Cheryl said. “Forgive us if we’re still a little shocked, Laurel’s not normally one to spring things on us like this.”

He laughed. “Perfectly fair. I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to meet until now, but we’ve been trying to get used to the idea ourselves.”

Her dad leaned forward from his spot in the couch, giving Pierre as much of a once-over as he could from nearly 1500 miles away. “I’m not able to give you the normal talking-to I have with any of the other boys Laurel or Maggie have introduced us to, so this is going to have to do.” Maggie? Laurel had primed Pierre for the inevitable grilling, telling him that if it was anything like it had been in the past, it would be all bark and no bite. “So what do you do for work, Pierre-Luc?”

“I’m a professional hockey player in the NHL, I play for the Columbus Blue Jackets.”

Doug’s eyebrows went up. As much of a front as he tried to put up, he was still a middle-aged man from Minnesota, and there were few things that impressed middle-aged men from Minnesota more than their daughters being suddenly engaged to NHL players. “NHL, huh? That’s very impressive. So you’re from Québec, then?”

“Yes, sir,” Pierre answered. “My hometown’s a little outside of the city, but I live in Montréal now. My mom’s from Georgia, though, so I’ve got dual citizenship and some family still down there.”

Her parents didn’t take too kindly to the news that the wedding was in three weeks, since it was too tight a fit to be able to get time off, but promised to visit later in the summer to make a proper introduction to their new son-in-law. Her father continued to pepper him with questions about his hobbies, family, and how he takes his steak — according to the Doug Klerken rules, any man who orders anything above medium is not to be trusted — until Laurel mercifully cut him off, telling her parents they were late to meet up with some friends. “That wasn’t so bad,” Pierre said as Laurel slipped her phone into her purse, immediately plugging it into her portable charger as the FaceTime had drained all but 18% of her battery.

Laurel made a face. “They’re good people and they care about me, but…” She trailed off. “They never really understood why I’d want anything more than I was given. Anything more than the status quo. And it’s just caused a lot of friction between us.” Her eyes flashed as she remembered something. “One more thing.” Pierre’s ears perked up. “If and when you ever talk to my parents again, just...don’t bring up politics.” Laurel grimaced.

“Republicans?” he asked sympathetically.

She nodded. “Trump-supporting Republicans. It’s another one of the reasons we don’t talk much anymore. I’m liberal, I’d probably be NDP if I could vote here, and we just don’t share the same values on a lot of things.”

“That’s got to be pretty rough on you,” Pierre said.

“Yeah,” Laurel admitted. “Probably more than I want to let on, but I think it helps that I’m able to get some distance.”

Pierre took a deep breath in. “Your, uh, your dad mentioned something that I wanted to ask you about.”

Shit. Laurel had been able to avoid the conversation for long enough, but she was beginning to push her luck, and she couldn’t run forever. “Maggie?”

He nodded. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but I thought I should ask.”

“Yeah, no, I get it,” Laurel said. “Um, long story short, Maggie’s my sister. It’s July, so…” she did the mental math in her head, “she’d be almost 31. Total free spirit. She left town pretty soon after she graduated, came back every so often but not nearly enough. Last I heard, she was an au pair in Italy.”

“And when was that?”

“Two years ago.” Pierre figured that was as good a time as any to drop the subject, so he did. They had decided that, while they were still downtown, it would be a good opportunity to get the ring shopping out of the way. Pierre looked up the highest-rated jewelry store on Yelp, and they set off on foot.

Pierre opened the door for her as they stepped inside, greeted by a slightly over-enthusiastic salesman. “You paid for the ceremony fee, so I’m paying for the rings, okay?”

Laurel scoffed. “Hardly a fair trade, don’t you think?”

“I’ll live,” he said, smirking.

Laurel had been wandering around by the solitaires for a few minutes when Pierre walked up behind her. “I know this isn’t going to be the wedding you’ve always dreamed of,” Pierre said, “but we’re going to make it the best we can.” He looked down at the cases, Laurel’s fingers dancing over the edge of the glass cover. “When you were in high school, or university, did you ever think about what kind of wedding you wanted?” Laurel gave a small nod. “And what kind of ring did you have?”

“I’ve always liked halo cuts,” she said softly.

Pierre inched his hand towards hers, wrapping his fingers around hers. They tensed for a second, but then relaxed into his grip. “Then let’s go get you that halo cut.”

There was no one else in the store aside from the salesman, so the couple was enveloped in a comfortable silence as they browsed. Her eyes stopped on a beautiful floral halo ring with an oval diamond. Pierre nodded to the salesman, who carefully took it off of its stand and handed it to Pierre, who carefully wiggled it onto Laurel’s fourth finger. If she closed her eyes, she was almost able to pretend that it was a proposal. Laurel brought her thumb to the ring, delicately running it over the pavé band with the ghost of a smile on her face. “What do you think?” Pierre asked, as if he couldn’t already tell her answer from the look on her face.

Laurel looked up at him. “I love it. It fits perfectly.”

“Like Cinderella’s slipper.” He turned to the salesman. “Combien ça coûte?” (How much does it cost?) Laurel heard a number that made her swallow hard, more than anything she’d ever have bought for herself, but Pierre insisted it was a non-issue as he handed his card over. “He said that they’ve got another sample one in the back, and you’re welcome to just wear that one out if it fits.”

“Sounds good.” The salesman handed over the bag with Pierre’s ring and her matching wedding band, thanking them for their purchase before opening the door back into the sunny Montréal afternoon. Laurel craned her neck to try and sneak a peek inside the bag. “Don’t I get to see yours?”

Pierre cracked a wry grin. “Gotta wait until the wedding, babe. Can’t a man have a little mystery?”

“Fair enough,” Laurel said, not missing his use of the pet name but brushing it off as simply a spur-of-the-moment choice. “Do you want to do the honors?” she asked, referring to the all-important checklist.

Pierre opened his phone with his spare hand, deftly navigating to the app and tapping twice. “Four down, seven to go. We’re on a roll.

June 24 (thurs)

Surprisingly, telling Pierre-Luc’s parents hadn’t been nearly as intimidating as breaking the news to her own, at least for Laurel. They were shocked — and confused, and had a lot of questions — but were welcoming nonetheless. Patrice was almost like a second son to them, and the fact that she already came with his stamp of approval went a long way into calming them down. “He’s always been quite the romantic, the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. And he cares deeply about the people in his life. That’s you, now,” his mom had said. They drove up to meet them that Sunday, having brunch in his childhood home. That was, in essence, their first real “test” as a couple. They had never had to sell their relationship to anyone before; even when going out with Madeline and Patrice after their “engagement,” nothing ever seemed like it had changed. This time was different. This time had to be different.

His mom fawned over her engagement ring, asking her to spare no details in retelling the story of the proposal. Lucky for her, however, Laurel was the former president of the University of Toronto improv club, and coming up with background stories with exactly zero minutes to prepare was something of a specialty for her. Laurel immediately gushed about how unexpected it was; she was just expecting an evening walk through downtown until they turned down one of the piers by the basilica, reached the end overlooking the river, and Pierre dropped down on one knee. “I think I knew that he was the one way sooner than that, but it’s nice to finally have it be official,” she had said.

Laurel shook herself out of her memories, turning the door into the locker room. She grabbed a pair of scrubs out of her shared locker — she had never met Alice, the other nurse who used it, but they had made a habit of leaving each other Post-it note greetings — and stripped off her t-shirt and jeans. Shimmying on her scrub pants, she tied them, leaning back into the locker to get her bag as the door shut behind her. She glanced over to the door, waving to Claire. Claire was sweet, a transplant from Vancouver who had lived in Québec as a child and decided to come back to work. She was sweet, having just started working at the beginning of the summer, but she was young, even younger than Laurel. And while her perky and energetic nature lent itself well to the dynamics of the floor, it was a lot for her to get used to. “Hey!” Laurel said, waving as she pulled a chain out of her purse, trying to discreetly unhook it.

“Hey!” Claire responded, perky as ever. “How has your week been?” She worked Mondays and Thursdays with Laurel, but had the Saturday night shift as well.

Laurel threw her hair up into a bun. “Good, good, busy. Met up with some friends yesterday, so that was nice, but not much. Took Piper to the dog park.” With my fiancé, she neglected to add. She twisted her ring off, trying to slip it onto the chain without Claire noticing. Like most of her married colleagues, Laurel had taken to wearing her engagement ring on a chain around her neck while at work instead of on her finger. It was under her scrubs most of the time, keeping at bay the questions she wasn’t yet ready to answer, and made it much easier to pull on and off gloves when the occasion called for it. But Claire was eagle-eyed, catching the sparkle of the diamond just as she slid it onto the chain.

She audibly gasped. “Is that an engagement ring?”

Laurel had to think fast; once again, her improv skills were called up to bat. “No? It’s, uh, it’s a family heirloom, it was my grandma’s. Guess I didn’t think too much about which finger I put it on.” She could tell Claire didn’t quite believe her side of the story, but thankfully, she didn’t press.

“If you say so,” she said, giving a not-so-subtle wink.

June 27 (sun)

Laurel was sat in her living room, her TV on in the background as she scrolled absent-mindedly through her phone, savoring her last few hours before she had to go to bed for her 5:30 wake-up call. On a whim, she opened her Twitter. It wasn’t an app she used all that often — mostly just to keep in contact with the handful of high school and college friends who didn’t use Instagram — and she was well aware that she’d probably have to limit her use for her own sanity when she and Pierre went “public” after the wedding, but she liked being able to keep up with everyone. She followed her friends, a handful of celebrities and a few journalists, but her timeline wasn’t flooded with updates. Then she saw the little blue alert on the bottom. One new message. Clicking to her inbox, Laurel saw that it had been sent by Madeline four minutes earlier, a link to a tweet that just had the caption: “you should probably see this.”

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Laurel pressed the link. What could be so important that Madeline would have sent a message with that kind of urgency? And why didn’t she just text it? God, I hate puckbunny blogs, Laurel thought as she read the handle. Her eyes raced across the screen. So I was looking up the address of my friend’s wedding earlier since I lost my invitation and didn’t want to tell her, and saw this under??? I know he can be a private guy, but tell me you guys don’t think this is for PLD. Her eyes froze as soon as she finished reading, praying that somehow they were talking about a different PLD, that they hadn’t been found out and their cover hadn’t been blown and she wasn’t about to have a panic attack for the first time since junior year — and then she saw the screenshot. Of their wedding announcement. Their public wedding announcement that not only had their full names and places of birth, but the location of the ceremony, the time, and their addresses. God, this is exactly what Laurel had been worried about. She immediately reported the tweet for exposing personal information, then made the poor decision to look at the comments section. Some people insisted it was legitimate, some convinced it was just photoshop, some were convinced that it couldn’t be Pierre-Luc even it looked like him, because he was training in Columbus for the summer, right? Thank God, it didn’t seem like anyone had done a deep enough dive to figure out who she was; there weren’t any screenshots of her accounts or photos of her in the comments section. It was eight minutes from the time she reported it to when it was taken down, and while Laurel was grateful for the quick response, she felt like she was on a cliffside, one foot off of the edge, until it had been deleted.

Her phone lit up with a text notification from Pierre. Funny thing happened today.

Oh God, Laurel thought. Had he seen it? He hadn’t.

My mom asked what you were planning to do about flowers and got very upset when I said we didn’t have any plans. She let out a tense breath. Flowers, she could do. She wanted to get your number to send over the names of a few florists she knows in the area, but I thought I should check with you first to make sure that’s okay.

Laurel smiled, her right hand draped over the side of the couch to scratch Piper behind the ears. That sounds great, P.

As promised, his mom texted Laurel soon after, coming armed with recommendations of Montréal florists. She echoed her son’s words almost identically; You deserve to have the wedding you’ve always dreamed of even if the circumstances are different, she had written. Her eyes pricked with tears as she fell asleep.

July 3 (sun)

It was a week before the wedding, and Laurel had started to pack up her apartment. It seemed much more practical to do it in stages then try to finish everything the weekend of the wedding. So she sat with Pierre on the floor of her bedroom, moving boxes between them as they packed away into the next season of her life. Some things, she obviously couldn’t put away yet — she still needed clothes and toothpaste, and they hadn’t been able to get all of her pots and pans down to the Goodwill yet. But books and keepsakes could be boxed up, and unless there was a snowstorm in July, she didn’t need her parka either.

“Oh, what’s this?” Pierre asked as he pulled a few more volumes off of her bookshelf. Laurel groaned when she saw what was in his hand.

“The 2013 Cloquet Senior High School yearbook. My sophomore year.”

He burst out laughing. “This, I’ve got to see.” He opened the cover. “Your mascot was the Lumberjacks?”

Laurel ducked her head, her cheeks heating. “Regrettably, yes. That’s what happens when your whole area used to be milling towns.”

Pierre’s brows furrowed. “I thought you said everything was about the mines, doesn’t your dad work in the mines?”

“He does,” Laurel said. “They had to figure out something to do after all of the trees had been cut down, you know?”

Pierre got the feeling it was really more of a rhetorical question. “What was your school like?”

She placed one of her old Harry Potter books into the box. “Small is the first word that comes to mind. My graduating class couldn’t have been much bigger than 150 or so? We’d get snow days a couple of times a year, most of the time if it wasn’t a blizzard everyone would end up going down to the school anyways, we’d all have big snowball fights on the football field. Actually,” she said, pulling out her phone from her back pocket, “I think I might still have a clip of one.” She pulled up her videos, scooting over to Pierre and leaning into his side so he could see the screen. Raucous laughter filtered through the speakers; the only things in sight were snow forts and the tiniest bits of beanies peeking over the top.

“THIS. IS. WAR!”

Laurel snickered. “I think that sounds like Nicholas, he was the varsity quarterback for a few years. Usually was the one leading the sieges.” She put her phone away a minute later after the clip ended. “But other than that? There were actually a lot of pretty interesting elective classes, I got to take photography, work in the preschool on campus, take a class on Anishinaabe studies.”

“Anishinaabe?” Pierre questioned.

“There’s a Native American reservation in town, the tribe’s Ojibwe so that’s the language family we studied. A lot of kids at the school, including one of my best friends Kristen, live on the reservation, so I think they wanted to not only have the class available for Native students who maybe wanted to learn more about their culture, but also for non-Native kids like me, so we’re able to gain a respect for whose land we’re living on,” Laurel explained.

“Makes sense,” he said, flipping through the pages. He snorted. “This photo might be the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Laurel peeked over his shoulder, cringing at her school picture. “I really couldn’t have dressed any more 2012 if I tried, Pierre. Aggressively off-the-shoulder top, one of those godforsaken hair feathers, I bet you’d find dark wash skinny jeans if you could see from the waist down.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my fiancée like that,” Pierre said. “I like the look, I swear. You were such a cute kid, oh my God.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know. What happened to me, right?”

He looked at her from the side. “Nope.”

June 9 (fri)

It was the day before the wedding, and Laurel was trying to find a dress. She had been planning on wearing one — even if it was a courthouse wedding, she still wanted to look nice — but then she had spilled red wine onto the light blue one she had been thinking of wearing as she ironed it in the living room, and she didn’t want to put all of her eggs in one basket if the Oxiclean didn’t end up working. She called Madeline in a panic, who promised to be over as soon as she could with a few dresses of her own to see what she could do. There was a knock on the door, and Laurel practically flew across the room to fling it open, gathering Madeline in a hug even before she had crossed the threshold. Madeline patted her clumsily on the back. “There, there, Laur. It’s going to be okay, we’re going to fix it.”

Laurel ran one hand through her hair, her curls as frazzled as her mind. “It’s got to be. Half of my stuff’s already over at P’s place, what, do you want me to wear a,” she opened up her dresser, eyeing its meager contents, “bralette and lacy thong to my own wedding?”

Madeline shrugged. “I doubt Pierre would mind,” she said casually.

Laurel almost choked on her own spit. “What do you mean?”

“Men are visual creatures, and you’re hot as hell, Laurel,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Still,” Laurel said, opening her closet and grabbing every single left over dress from its hanger, trying to distract herself from Madeline’s words, “I’d rather not be arrested for public indecency. I’m trying to stay in the country, remember?”

Madeline rolled her eyes. “I remember.” She thumbed through the dresses on Laurel’s bed. “You’re not wearing a black dress to get married,” she said pointedly.

“It’s pretty?” Laurel tried to reason.

“It is, but it’s a wedding, not a funeral.” She moved onto the next one. “Bright red bodycon is great for the club, but not sure coquettish seductress is the look you’re going for.” The next one was a striped sweater dress; it was the middle of summer, so according to Madeline, that meant it was out. There was a navy shift dress that “could work, but it’s a little too much work and not enough play,” her friend had said. Laurel tried on Madeline’s dresses, but seeing as how she had three inches on her, the hemlines weren’t exactly in her favor. Madeline pulled out the last of the stack, gasping softly. “This one’s beautiful, where’s it from?”

Madeline looked at it, a knee-length ivory lace dress, rolling her eyes good-naturedly at Madeline. “It was for Aurélie’s bachelorette party last year, probably explains. You were drunk off your ass that night.”

“I’m hurt by that characterization, but I don’t remember enough to correct you,” Madeline said. “It’s perfect though, why didn’t you choose this one in the first place?”

Laurel rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m not sure?” Madeline gave her a look. “Fine, it just seems...It seems too much like an actual wedding dress. It’s white, or close enough, anyways,” she noted, fingering one of the delicate straps, “and gorgeous, and formal, and I’m worried if I wear it it’ll seem too real, and I’ll start thinking this is more than it is. Because all it is at the end of the day is a friend doing me a really, really big favor,” she finished, huffing and falling back onto her mattress.

“At the end of the day, it’s still a wedding,” Madeline corrected, laying down next to her. “And you’re still a bride and he’s still a groom and you deserve to feel beautiful and cherished and special on your wedding day, no matter its circumstances. And who knows? Maybe you two stay married, and fall in love, and you live happily ever after with your half-dozen dogs and 2.5 kids on some farm out in the suburbs.”

Laurel snorted. “As if.” But two hours later, long after Madeline had already left, she sat back on the bed, hand ghosting over the lace of her now-wedding dress, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Madeline had a point.

June 10 (sat)

It was the morning of the wedding, and Laurel was pacing her room in her sweatpants, Piper looking at her in confusion from the doorway. It was just past 7 and the appointment wasn’t until 10, but she still had to get dressed and do her hair and makeup and pick up the flowers and eat and — her internal monologue was interrupted by the doorbell. Still half-asleep, she ambled over to the door, pulling it open without even really checking to see who it was.

“Surprise!!” Patrice shouted, walking through the door, followed by Madeline and Pierre. “Madeline mentioned that you seemed a bit overwhelmed yesterday, so we thought we’d come over and get ready over here!”

Laurel shuffled out of the way as Piper jumped on Pierre, who laughed and calmed her down with a few scratches on her chin. She had really taken a liking to him and his two dogs, which had initially been a point of nervousness for Laurel. But they got along great, shared space well, and she seemed to love her new brother and sister. “That’s really nice of you guys, I appreciate it,” she said sincerely. “Um, I don’t have much food left because of the move, but I think there’s some cereal in the cupboard?”

“Silly you,” Pierre said, holding out a paper bag. “Did you think I’d leave my bride hungry on our wedding day? I got you sourdough french toast, should be on the top.” They had gone out to brunch once and she had ordered it, audibly moaning at how incredible it tasted. He remembered.

“And raspberry mochas!” Madeline said, presenting her with a cup.

Laurel took it, wrapping her spare arm around Madeline and kissing Pierre on the cheek. “This is incredible, guys. Really. I didn’t expect anything like this.”

“Exactly!” Madeline said, a perky expression on her face. “It’s a surprise!” She drifted into the kitchen, pulling out plates from Laurel’s cabinet and forks from her drawers. “Breakfast is served!”

Laurel let out a laugh as she grabbed the box with her french toast, taking a sip of her mocha. “I think the credit goes to the chefs at the restaurant, but whatever you say, Madi.”

Madeline rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but we ordered it.

By the time they had all inhaled their breakfasts and cleaned the kitchen — Laurel and Pierre tag-teamed the dishes — it was almost eight, and Madeline whisked her into her room to get ready. “There should be a couple beers in the fridge, help yourselves!” Laurel shouted out the door as Madeline tried to wrestle her into the ensuite. For the most part, Madeline was good at listening to Laurel’s pleas against a dramatic makeup look. Muted rose lipstick, filled in her eyebrows, delicately pulled back her hair into a twisted bun. “Where’s your setting spray?” Madeline asked, rooting through her makeup bag.

“Top drawer on the left. Are you finally going to let me see?”

Madeline pulled the drawer out, uncapping the bottle and spritzing it over Laurel’s face. “Go for it.”

Laurel turned around, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. “Oh my God,” she said, turning her head so the glimmer of her highlighter caught in the early-morning sun streaming through the open window. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Don’t say that until you’ve put the dress on,” Madeline said, pulling it off of its hanger and draping it across the chair. Sweats came off and the dress went on, Madeline carefully pulling up the back zipper and straightening out her hem. Laurel bent down to put on her shoes, threading the silver straps through the tiny metal clasp before giving her leg a good shake. Madeline looked at her sceptically.

“What?” Laurel asked innocently. “I don’t want it to fall off halfway down the aisle.”

There was a knock on the bedroom door, Patrice’s voice floating in from the other side. “It’s 9:20, you two about ready to head out?”

“Coming!” Madeline called back, pulling Laurel up from the bed. “You ready, Laur?” Laurel gave a nervous nod. “Let’s go get you married.”

She stepped out into the living room, reaching up to her neck and fingering the silver filigree of her grandma’s wedding necklace, one of the only things she had left to remember her by. If she wasn’t able to complete the whole rhyme, at least she’d have her something old. “Who’s driving?” she asked.

Pierre wheeled around, mouth gaping like a fish when he saw her. Laurel immediately looked down to her dress, wondering if she had spilled one of her pre-wedding mimosas. “What is it?” she asked frantically. “Is there something in my teeth?”

He shook his head, tugging at the sleeves of his navy blue suit. “No, there’s nothing in your teeth, it’s perfect. You look beautiful.” They were in the car five minutes later, picked up the bouquet from the florist five minutes after that, and were outside of the courthouse by 9:50. Laurel took a deep breath, looking up at the glass doors of the Palais de Justice. Pierre threaded his fingers between hers, giving a reassuring squeeze. “You good?”

Laurel nodded, nervous but determined, sure that she was making the right decision. “Ready.” She barely remembered signing in, barely remembered going back to the clerk’s office, barely remembered her reading the mandated articles of the civil code. She gripped Pierre’s hands, giving him as much of a reassuring smile as she could, as the vows were read.

“Pierre-Luc Dubois, do you take Laurel Elizabeth Klerken, here present, to be your wife?” Juliette asked.

“I do.”

“Laurel Elizabeth Klerken, do you take Pierre-Luc Dubois, here present, to be your husband?”

“I do,” Laurel said, voice steady.

Juliette continued. “By virtue of the powers vested in me by law, I now declare you, Pierre-Luc Dubois, and you, Laurel Elizabeth Klerken, united in the bonds of marriage.” Patrice passed over the rings; Laurel slid Pierre’s onto his ring finger, he gently twisted hers to rest on top of her engagement ring. “You are now legally married. Allow me, on my own behalf and on behalf of all those present, to offer you our best wishes for your happiness. You may now kiss the bride.”

Laurel panicked for a moment, before looking up and meeting Pierre’s eyes. In the span of a second, she communicated her unspoken agreement with the tiniest nod of her head, and his lips were on hers. His arms were against the small of her back, hers wrapped around his neck, and even enough it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, it felt like hours. It felt like coming home.

#pierre-luc dubois #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey smut #nhl writing #pierre-luc dubois imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl smut #nhl #hockey #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic

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dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram · 3 years

Note

Good morning Ralph! I’m an attorney in the US and I saw your anon asking about the legality of vaccine requirements set by artists. I can shed some light, though probably not much and I’m going to do that annoying thing that lawyers do where we say “well it depends!” and refuse to give anyone any solid answers. But that’s really, truly, honestly, cross my heart hope to die, because in the case of the legality of vaccine requirements it does depend on a lot of different factors and we don’t have very many solid answers. This is not something anyone has ever really had to deal with before, the legal system looks to past precedent when deciding how to handle current issues, and there just isn’t much of that here. As a kind of general rule, though, the baseline we start from is the idea that private entities are free to require basically whatever they want as a prerequisite to service, and consumers are free to choose not to patronize those entities if they don’t like the requirements. An important thing to remember, that I think a lot of people tend to forget - all those handy rights the US constitution affords its citizens only apply to the government. There are limited exceptions - the Americans with Disabilities Act and Title VII of the Civil Rights Act are two of the biggest examples. But, so long as they’re complying with the guidelines provided by those limited exceptions, private entities can and always have been able to do pretty much whatever they want.

Now, vaccines are an interesting question because you start to get cross over into other issues - the right to privacy, bodily autonomy, “compulsory” disclosure of personal medical information, etc. If the question was “can an artist require me to wear a mask at his concert even though wearing a mask wasn’t required at the time I bought my ticket” the answer would unequivocally be yes. Artists and venues can (and do!) require all sorts of things for entry - you have to have a ticket, you have to submit to a bag search and go through a metal detector, you’re generally required to be wearing shoes and pants and a shirt. Masks absolutely can be added as a requirement, at any time, and whether or not it was a requirement that you reasonably could have anticipated when you bought the ticket doesn’t matter. But vaccines feel a little different, and admittedly they are. A mask is, in essence, a piece of clothing for your face. You wear it for a few hours, you take it off, you go about your life. It’s a temporary measure. Vaccines are not. A vaccine is a medical treatment, once you’ve gotten it you can’t “take it off” or decide you don’t want it anymore. It just feels like there should be a higher level of scrutiny than just “if you don’t like the requirement don’t support the entity.” But there really isn’t. That old idea that a private entity can set pretty much whatever rules and restrictions for access to and use of their private property stands. That tenant is arguably strengthened when the issue involves public health risks, because an employer has a duty to protect their employees and customers.

The EEOC ruled in May that companies can legally require their employees to be vaccinated. There are no federal laws preventing an employer from requiring employees to provide proof of vaccination, that information just has to be kept confidential. If there is a disability or sincerely held religious belief preventing an employee from being vaccinated they are entitled to a “reasonable accommodation” that does not pose an “undue burden” on the business. This isn’t a 1:1 comparison to your anon’s question about whether or not artists can require vaccination of concert attendees, but it is really useful guidance, because it’s a statement about what is and isn’t appropriate re: vaccine requirements straight from the mouth of one of the biggest federal players in the game. If, for example, a bunch of maroon five fans decided to sue the ban for their vaccine requirements, the EEOC decision is something judges and lawyers would look at in evaluating the suit.

HIPAA is the big one that a lot of people like to cite as protecting them from being asked about vaccination status by businesses or employers, but that’s just entirely untrue. HIPAA prevents a specific list of entities - doctors, hospitals, insurance companies, etc. - from disclosing medical data about a patient in their care. Event venues, artists, employers - none of them fall into the category of a “covered entity” that has to abide by HIPAA requirements. And even then, there’s an argument to be made that HIPAA still wouldn’t prevent them from asking if you’re vaccinated and refusing you entry if you’re not, just that they can’t turn around and tell someone else what your vaccination status is.

So on a high level the answer is yes, artists can absolutely require vaccination of concert attendees. Full stop.

But that’s only taking into account federal laws. There are state laws at play too, and those are absolute mess. It feels like each state is handling their approach to vaccine requirements differently, and a lot of them conflict with the federal laws at play. While in theory federal laws should trump state laws, that’s not really true in practice, and a lot of people who are much smarter than me are still struggling with how to navigate that maze, so I’m not going to bother adding my two cents about how I think it should go. From a fact based standpoint, though, know that state laws are an issue and add even more “it depends on ____” factors to our already uncertain analysis. Texas, Arkansas, and Florida, for example, all have laws prohibiting businesses and governmental entities from requiring digital proof of vaccination. Whether or not these laws will withstand judicial scrutiny in the places they conflict with federal law remains tbd, but as it stands now an artist playing a show in Texas couldn’t require vaccines for entry to that show. But if their tour stop is, say, Indiana, they could require vaccines there, because Indiana state law only prevents governmental and quasi-governmental entities (schools) from requiring vaccines. Private entities can do whatever they want.

The final thing I want to touch on is your anon’s concern that the vaccine requirement wasn’t in place when the tickets were originally bought. It doesn’t matter. If the question is “can an artist require vaccines” the answer is “yes” and whether or not that requirement was in place when you bought your ticket doesn’t matter. BUT! As with everything else, there are exceptions. There might be an argument that adding a vaccine requirement is a contractual violation, if we were to imagine the exchange of ticket purchase for entertainment a contract between the buyer and the artist. There’s maybe an argument that you paid for a service you’re no longer getting because the circumstances under which the service will be provided has changed so drastically. These are issues that if someone wanted answers to they’d have to hire an attorney to file a civil suit against the artist, and then see the litigation through to get a ruling from a judge. To the best of my knowledge that hasn’t been done. But even if it is is done in the future, the answer to the overarching question “can an artist require vaccines” won’t change. All that will change is the artist will be required to come up with some sort of refund scheme for those who choose not to be vaccinated.

Anyway! I didn’t mean to write an entire treatise in your inbox. I saw the anon’s question and immediately went “oh interesting! I know a little bit about that” and, as per usual, a little bit has turned into a rambling lecture that I’m not actually sure anyone will even learn anything from. At the very least it might entertain you.

Xoxo, a US attorney who really needs to go do work someone will pay her for and stop theorizing about the interplay of federal vs state laws.

Thanks anon! That's all very interesting and relevant information. It gives a really good sense of how complex the situation is and the relevant dynamics in play. And also a good sense of what the law does and doesn't cover - because there's a whole practical side of this that is largely

I'll throw in one more thought. One of my concerns about vaccine passports are the equity issues. Existing issues of access to healthcare have played out in vaccine rates and that's true of both race and class everywhere that I have looked at. I don't think vaccines can be considered meaningfullly accessible if poor people and black people aren't accessing them. In general, the best answers to that will be resourcing to take vaccines to where people are and (and the situation for native americans really undscores this) and paid sick leave. But while vaccination rates are lowest for those who face most marginalisation, restricting access to society on the basis of a vaccination is discriminatory in a serious way.

#I can be persuaded on vaccine requirements #in specific contexts #But I do take the privacy and equity issues seriously #which is why I think any justification has to be full and accurate about risk #but also I am not the US legal system

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #436

from a couple days ago again; still don’t feel like rewriting any answers.

Do you own many pairs of shorts? I don't own any. Have you ever taken a close up shot of a flower? A hell of a lot; I love doing that. Have you ever wanted to get drunk and get your mind off everything? Yup. But I don't like hard alcohol and only really drink light fruity stuff, and I'm apparently no lightweight, so I got to the point I just really didn't want to drink anymore. Anything you might be giving up on soon? I have felt very, very hopeless with photography lately that sometimes I'm tempted. I don't think I will, but... it's hard. When was the last time you changed your picture on Facebook? It's been months. Have you ever painted a piece of furniture? Yes, actually. I helped Jason paint his shelf black. Do you have a favorite quote? No. Have you ever made a business card for yourself? No, but I have thought about it. I just really don't have nearly enough popularity among the local photographers to feel like I really need to design one. Did you love playing hide and seek as a kid? YES. I loved it. Are there any recipes you have memorized? No. Do you know your multiplication times tables? ... no lmao Have you ever been severely burned? Not severely, no. Did you ever dream that you had a baby? I actually have more than once. What was the weirdest thing you ever saw cross the road? I think a turkey? Are you good at coming up with jokes? God no. Where do you prefer to sit when you catch the bus? When I used to ride home with Jason from school, we always sat way in the back. Do you ever listen to music to fall asleep to? No. I did when I was younger, though. I went through a loooong phase of sleeping with my iPod. If your parents... or anybody else... found your cell phone, would they be horrified at any of the messages in your inbox/outbox? No. Do you get offended if someone repeatedly checks their mobile phone when you’re out for lunch or dinner? That's very rude. What is the stupidest thing you’ve heard somebody say recently? Anti-vaccination bullshit from my stepmother. :^) Think about the last person you kissed - was it the very first time that you kissed them? No. When you drink alcohol with friends, do you play drinking games? We never did. Do you believe that there are certain circumstances where cheating is okay? Nope. Who was the last person to call you? My psychiatrist. What food disgusts you the most? Things like sashimi and caviar. I also think rare meat like steak, especially when it's still bloody, is absolutely disgusting. I could go on and on about this, 'cuz I think a lot of food is really gross. One place you would never want to get lost in in the dark? The jungle. Yikes. So many dangerous creatures, so claustrophobic, and with the canopy, I'd assume it'd be EXTREMELY dark. And it rains so much in the jungle, so it'd be hard to hear danger approaching. One thing that always creeps you out? Perhaps #1 is seeing an unborn baby move from outside their mother's stomach. I will fucking scream and want to puke. If you could be roommates with anyone of your choice, who would you pick? SARA!!!!!!!!! Omfg I'd LOVE to have her as my roommate. We've actually talked about the possibility, but that's nowhere near set in stone. What is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard? In light of recent events, a high contender is shit like "vaccines cause autism." Would you rather be buried or cremated when you die? I'd strongly prefer to be cremated. What is your favorite food around the holidays? Spiral honey ham, for one. I love Christmas treats like chocolate-covered peanuts, fudge, cookies, etc. etc... Tell me about the greatest prank you’ve ever pulled? I don't pull pranks. If you could have the power to cast any kind of spell, what kind of spell would you cast? Maybe enchanting the human population to not be such violent and hateful fucks??? Have you ever gotten a flu vaccination? Only for Covid. Double dates: a do or don’t? They are SO fun, but I do feel like it's good to have individual ones, too. Do you know any guitarists? Yes. My old friend Tommy actually plays the electric guitar in a band, and Juan was really good at it, too. How do you feel about full-length beards? They look good on some people. It varies with everyone. Do you have any relatives that have shunned you, or vice versa? Not currently. My half-sister stopped talking to me many years ago when I was a homophobic fuck, and I don't blame her. We're perfectly cool now! Has anyone ever posted a HORRIBLE picture of you for everyone to see? omg no Does/did your high school have pop machines? Yes. Have you ever gambled? Nah. If you could work at any retail store, which one would it be? I am NEVER working retail again. I can't handle it. What’s the name of the last cat you pet? Roman. :') Have you ever stringed green beans before? Yes, actually, with Colleen's in-laws. They had a big garden that I helped tend to sometimes. I absolutely hated it with how sweaty I got even then, it was WAY too hot, and my body was also weak back then to where bending down was extremely painful. I just never wanted to say no. Have you ever had any painful dental work done? If so, what? No. What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re bored? It really depends on what I feel like doing, but I think playing World of Warcraft tempts me most often when I'm unbearably bored. What did you watch today? I've just been rewatching Mortem3r play Monster Hunter World. That game looks soooo fun, I wanna try it. ;-; True or False: Yoshi is the cutest dinosaur ever? No. I adore dinosaurs and dinosaur media, so I could name a lot if I thought long enough. Who is the last person you spent money on? My niece. I still feel awful I didn't buy Ryder a gift by myself; I just could NOT decide what to get him. I'm very thankful that Mom let me use one she got him as "mine." They were bright, light-up golf balls, and he loooooved them. What is your relationship like with various members of your family? I have a biiig extended family, man, so I'll try to keep this as brief as possible. I am EXTREMELY close to my mom, like there is no way I'd be alive without her, and her support for me seems endless somehow. I love my dad very much too, but I don't see him nearly as much as I wish I did. He tries to support me however he's capable, and he always lets me know that he's there if I need him for anything. I love, am very proud of, and look up to my two sisters, but I'm also very envious of them and how they are successful adults with direction and big accomplishments. We are very different, so we have difficulty with really bonding and talking about things regularly, and it really makes me feel like a terrible sister. My nieces and nephew are absolute diamonds to me, and I'm especially close to Ash's oldest daughter Aubree. She and I are very similar in a lot of areas, so I really relate to her, even in her young age. Ryder really seems to like me, and I love that little rascal, too. :') My youngest niece Emerson is still only a baby, so she can't really communicate in words yet, but she is still a beautiful darling that I'd protect with my life in not even a blink. That covers who I consider my "immediate" family, really, at least that I see regularly. What’s something you disagree with about the way you were raised? I am very firmly against spanking, but my parents did it. I think since Ash's kids were born though, Mom's opinion changed on it. It was around that time, I know. She won't lay a hand on them. Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? I have no clue, actually. Who was the last person that asked if you were okay? *shrug* The last time you were in a car, who was driving? My mom. Did you ever get into a bar and drink before you were 21? Never tried. What countries have you been to? I've never left the U.S. Honestly, is that car insured? I don't have my own car. What do you think about gay marriage? I vigorously support it. Do you like Carrie Underwood? I actually do. She has a beautiful voice. How far away do you live from your parents? I live with my mom. Idk how far I am from Dad, really... but not THAT far. How do you like your steak cooked? Medium well. Have you ever been to Mount Rushmore? No, and I don't want to. It is absolute vandalism. Where is your favorite place (that you have actually been to)? Chicago blew me away, but I think it's just because it was SO foreign to me. I actually don't like cities very much, but for a brief visit, I thought it was very cool. Do you believe places can really be haunted? Yes. Do you take anti-depressants? Sleeping pills? No. I took anti-depressants for I think most of my life, and they did nothing for me. Come to learn from the doctor who actually set my meds straight that anti-depressants for people with bipolarity do nothing but aggravate the symptoms of bipolarity, and I was living evidence. I take mood stabilizers for said disorder instead. I don't take sleeping pills; none seem to work for me. What’s your favourite brand of peanut butter? Maybe Skippy? Idk, I'm not very picky with pb. What’s your favourite Lunchables meal? The nachos one. How many languages can you recite the alphabet in? Two. Do you like Bob Marley? NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I can't stand his voice. Have you ever eaten at Golden Corral? Yeah, but I'm not a fan. Buffets gross me out. Do you sit and eat dinner at the same table with your family? We very rarely sit at the table. Have you been working hard to achieve something lately? If not, what was the last thing you worked hard to achieve? Losing weight, yes. I am honestly trying so hard at the gym, like to the point I've almost fallen many times as well as been overtaken by incredible nausea a lot. I don't feel like I'm over-working, necessarily, just working my ass off. Do you use ice cubes in your fountain drinks? No, because it waters the drink down and I hate it. Would you ever want your very own library, or do you not read enough for it to be worth it? No. I don't read nearly enough, and besides, can you imagine all the dust? What site did you originally start doing surveys on? I actually don't know... Have you ever used something other than water to make ice cubes? What did you do with them? I've actually never thought to do that. Would you ever willingly experience life temporarily without sight, hearing, or any of your other senses, simply to know what it is like? Fuck no. I would go insane. In what ways are you very judgmental? I'll judge the fuck out of rapists, child molesters, pedophiles, people like that with no goddamn shame. But your average person, I try not to judge very much. What is your main problem in life right now? It's hard to determine my main problem, honestly. There are a lot of issues going on in my life that've just piled up into one big tangled mess. Do your “favourites” change often? Definitely not. I've had the same favorites in so many topics for forever. Have you ever read a biography on someone? I've read Ozzy's autobiography, and I also read the Some Kind of Monster Metallica book, which was written by I want to say St. Anger's musical director? This was a very long time ago, and honestly, I thought it was pretty boring, so my memory is faint. You learned quite a bit about the band in his time with them, but damn, I don't care about the musical director al;skdfal;we. Do you know anyone who has ever been in a movie? Who and what movie were they in? What was their part? Not to my knowledge. I have an acquaintance who's had minor acting roles, but I don't believe she's ever been in a film. When was the last time you brought a pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? I want to say around two years ago (probably less) when we got my cat neutered. Have you ever made your way through a corn maze? No.

#survey #surveys #random questions

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striving-artist · 4 years

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Someone stop me! what are we stopping you from doing? Also Im p sure im not gonna stop you

That doc is a Wip of the opening of a TV pilot that I really like, but that is too similar to Lovecraft country to go after. Amusingly. I wrote it before LC came out, but it’s got a similar cast, including terrifying over-perfect white lady as the gatekeeper to the world of Other. And the MC’s name is Nick. The concept is basically, 30yo needs a job, cannot freaking get one, gets offered a job working for the Fae.

And since this now can’t go anywhere, thus I do not need to be stopped, I may as well post all of it:

but below a cut bc long.

Shot of a folded futon with a rumpled pillow and blanket, in a tiny room, obviously partitioned from something larger. The curtain is obviously a fitted bed sheet taped in place. The futon has a messy pile of overdue bills. Electric, gas. Phone. Notice of cancellation for insurance. Notice of delinquency from Fedloan. A stack of boxes serves as a desk, pulled close enough that the futon is the seat. A laptop with a crack in the corner of the screen, duct tape along the battery, is making angry noises as it loads up the next page of a job search website. It’s the final page, and the message saying so is taunting.

Oops! Looks like that’s all there is here!

We see NICK, lit by the screen. Black, 30, artsy, if he could afford it. He’s slim, but fit - the side effect of living around actors and performers.

He takes a breath, gearing up, and starts a new set of google searches.

Jobs without a car

Jobs anyone can get

Best city for artist jobs

Best city for jobs?

Companies that will hire anyone

Companies that will hire anyone how to tell if evil

His phone chimes, interrupting his fruitless search, its screen is also cracked. The alert is from his calendar telling him he’s got Coffee w/JESS in half an hour.

Interior of a coffeshop. Exactly like any other coffee shop, with the same jazz covers of pop songs and decor that’s trying too hard. NICK’s got better taste than this, but JESS chose the place. NICK is standing against the wall, watching the barista, waiting to hear his name. It’s busy, but not crowded.

JESS arrives. She’s a whirlwind. A bag looped over her chest, The strap of a purse crossing over it. She’s short, dressed in at least four different bright patterns, and has her hair pinned back into a mohawk, which gets her an extra few inches. NICK waves, and winces when a Woman brightens her plastic looking smile and waves in reply. THE WOMAN is dyed blonde, with unnaturally white teeth.

His name is called, but the only table available is even closer to her. He sits with his back to THE WOMAN.

JESS joins him, setting down a venti latte with a pastry bag balanced on top.

JESS

Is that a cup of hot water?

NICK

I’m not allowed to drink tea?

JESS

Yeah, but that’s water.

NICK pulls a crumpled tea bag out of his pocket and drops it into the cup.

JESS

Wow, so you’re like broke broke, then.

NICK goes for the power move, taking a sip of the tea while trying to look angry. He burns himself

JESS

Oh hun, you are not tough enough to pull that off. And your tea’s like, barely steeped. You just dropped the thing into the -- Sorry -- alright, yeah, you got on unemployment finally, though right?

Flash shot of NICK on the computer, 404 errors, Unknown Error has occurred, Site is down for maintenance. Phone calls; We’re sorry the call cannot be completed as dialled. We’re sorry, all our operators are busy, please call back later - dial tones. That terrible sound that old fax machines make.

So… I’m gonna take that as a no?

NICK

Universe hates me. McDonalds said I wasn’t the right fit. The Sanitation department? Literally got told I wasn’t on the level to be a garbage man.

JESS

You sure someone didn’t steal your identity?

NICK

I spent the 30 bucks to check. No.

JESS

You have a masters degree, this shouldn’t be so hard. Even what’s his nuts - uh - the guy with the weird diet? He played uh, uh, in the show with the paper mache? Him.

NICK looks sort of nauseous.

NICK

Eddie got a job?

JESS

(reluctantly) In the art department for a film. Look, it just doesn’t make sense, you were doing great. We all figured you’d be getting us jobs ten minutes after graduation. We were all buddying up to you so we’d be first in line. Jesus NICK, It’s like you’re cursed or blacklisted or something.

NICK

Right.

JESS

(joking) No, seriously. You had a catastrophic safety failure in the space for your thesis for something that the school should have noticed like a decade ago, and ever since? It’s like - Just. I don’t know. Have you tried going to church? Drink some holy water? Ouija board? Burn some candles maybe?

NICK

What was that stuff that Sarah always talked about? Maybe I should have her do my tarot. No, wait. What was her thing? Chi? Karma? Crystals? I’ll try anything at this point.

(he laughs, but he’s not kidding)

JESS

Oh sugar, you brought your own tea bag to starbucks, you can’t afford good enough crystals to do anything about all this.

He takes another sip, burning himself and dribbling tea onto his shirt.

NICK

How’s your project though?

JESS

I feel bad talking about it with you.

NICK

Come on, just because I’m debating whether I need both my kidneys doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. Tell me about it. Maybe your good luck’ll rub off on me.

JESS

(giddy) Yeah, alright. Well, we’ve got concept books out this friday, and the presentation is next week, and it’s so cool. So so cool. The DP saw me doodling while the director was talking and stole it - scariest moment of my life - and showed it to everyone, and they just -- we made some changes, but basically my stupid little sketch is now in the package, and they had the art department turn it into renders and they asked me to review it? I swear, my soul just. Exited my body. It was amazing.

NICK

Handled it real smooth, huh?

JESS

Screw you, I was so professional they didn’t even notice that -- Yes?

JESS stops, looking over NICK’s shoulder. He turns to check. THE WOMAN is behind him, smiling the smile of a charity worker who’s more interested in posting about it on instagram than helping anyone. It’s fake, but not threatening.

Woman

I overheard you guys talking. Bad luck lately? That sucks.

JESS

This is a private conversation so if you don’t mind---

Woman

(interrupting) You should try contacting these guys.

She hands NICK a napkin with an address written on it, and a rough signature shape on the bottom.

They’ll help if you ask.

JESS

Great, thanks, bye.

THE WOMAN’s smile is static when she turns to JESS, like it’s glued in place.

Woman

You should really learn to be nicer to people. Bye.

She leaves.

NICK and JESS share a moment of WTF before he looks back at the napkin. JESS snatches it out of his hand and crumples it up.

JESS

No. We don’t go to random addresses given to us by botoxed white ladies that think you’ve got no other choices. Don’t you ever watch the news? That’s how people get their asses kidnapped. You’re too pretty to go walking into that. We’ll find you some work, NICK for now, drink your store brand tea, and I’ll tell you about what the AD said to me.

Time passes. JESS keeps talking, until they need to leave. She gives him a hug, whacking him in the leg with the heavier of her bags.

JESS

Come on, you’re too good to be unemployed forever. I know you sent it before, but can you bump the email with your stuff to the top of my inbox? I’ll see if I can get it in the hands of anyone on the team.

NICK

Sure.

JESS

And don’t go after dumb crap just because you’re broke, you’ll get through this, and it’ll look great in your biography one day. Okay, I gotta run before the parking fee goes up, bye!

NICK waves, grabs the garbage from their table to clear it. He throws everything away, and stoops to grab the bit that didn’t make it into the trash. Half crumpled, with a grease stain and some coffee smeared on it, but the napkin is still clear. He scoffs, almost drops it with the rest. His phone chimes. Another email:

Thank you for your interest in the position, unfortunately at this time…

NICK shoves the napkin in his pocket and exits. He doesn’t see THE WOMAN watching.

#my writing #my original writing

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wordsonpagespress · 5 years

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Toll-Free, by Rudrapriya Rathore

fiction by Rudrapriya Rathore | runner-up for the 2016 Blodwyn Memorial Prize in fiction, sponsored by Book*Hug

Near the end of the year, the toll-free number flashes across my phone three, five, seven times a day. There’s an odd rhythm about it that orders everything I do. A buzz on the morning subway ride where the train surfaces long enough to get phone signal, like a metallic dolphin mid-leap. A buzz during my lunch break while I eat my cucumber-cheese sandwich at the receptionist’s desk. A buzz when I walk to the grocery store in the evening, or if it’s Friday, to the Owl to get a drink with Phil. And when I get home after dark, two or three more while I watch TV in bed, the phone lighting up my covers with its bluish glow.

I never pick it up.

“Why not?” asks Phil, sucking down his weekly dose of pub fries while they’re still hot.

“Why should I? It’s just a telemarketer.”

“You don’t know that.” We’re more than a year deep into Owl Fridays and the waitresses know us so well they give us the same window table every time. Phil likes the curvy girl with the ponytail, though he’d never admit it, and gives his usual order trying not to look at her chest.

“Who else would call me this many times? It’s a machine, I bet. Not even a real telemarketer.”

“What if it’s your bank?” He licks the salt off his fingers.

“It’s not my bank. My bank emails me.”

“It could be your insurance company, or your internet.” He glugs his beer. “What if it’s the government or something? CSIS?” We look at each other for a moment, thinking it through. Then he snorts into his pint and I laugh because he’s dripping on his shirt collar.

“Alright, I get it. I’m too boring for CSIS.”

“That’s true. You haven’t even had two beers in a row since college.” Phil wipes his face. He likes this. If I play along for long enough, he slips his arm around me on the walk back to the subway station. Once in a long while, he comes home with me. We have sex for half an hour and then he calls a cab, waving as it pulls up to the curb.

This began when I got the job at the reception desk. Phil’s a manager in the office, I think, or an agent. A buyer. A seller. They’re all something like that, the ten or twenty men and women that pass by me every day on their way to the coffee machine. They look the same: blandly content, middle class. They say the same things on a weekly rotation. Hump Day! Happy Friday! Nearly the weekend now! Ah, Mondays! Sometimes I play a game where I try and beat them to it. “Almost Friday!” I say as Marie turns the corner, her glossy pink lips just opening up to greet me. She pauses. I think I see a flash of irritation move across her face—or maybe it’s just a ripple in the sea of foundation-powder blush. “That’s right!” she replies, heels clicking by.

“If I’m boring, what are your colleagues?” I ask Phil.

He shakes his head and gets up to pay. “You should pick up the call. See who it is.”

The phone buzzes two more times that night, and each time, as I lay there in my pajamas watching TV, I look over hoping it’s Phil. CSIS agent here, Ma’am. We’re concerned about the dullness of your daily routine. He might say that, if he called. That sounds like him.

I think of calling him, but I can’t make myself do it, can’t imagine what I would say. That kind of spontaneity belongs to a different kind of person. Those people regularly surprise themselves with what they come up with. They find a new version of themselves in every phone call, while I agonize over how to sign off in work emails. Sometimes I sent documents I needed for the next day in emails to myself. I watched them leave and then land in my inbox, a virtual boomerang. Each one pinged, Look! It’s you!

But the toll-free calls were different. I liked knowing that someone or something had logged my number. There was an entity on the other end of the line, and it wanted something from me.

I roll over and turn off the TV show. It’s almost eleven o’clock. If I did call Phil, he might not answer. That would be the best scenario, I think, if he sat in the dark, too, watching the phone buzz, liking the feeling of being wanted.

***

Either the next day or the next week, I get a voicemail. I stare at it with my eyebrows furrowed over my cucumber sandwich before opening it. I almost want to walk to Phil’s office so we can listen to it together, but I don’t. It’s been so long since I listened to a voicemail that it takes me five tries to remember my password, and when I finally get it right, the perky automated voice sounds a lot like Marie. I listen hard, but the message is just silence. Not dead air, exactly, but a kind of quiet hum. When I listen the second time I think I can hear a slight shuffle. Clothes, maybe, rustling against each other.

I tell Phil later, when he walks by to get coffee, and he says, “That’s weird.”

“I know.”

“Pick it up! Next time. I’m telling you.” He raises his eyebrows for emphasis.

That day I get home and tip over the potted plant on my windowsill while doing dishes. It spills fresh, black soil into the clean dishes on the counter, so I have to wash them all over again. Afterwards, I fix the plant and realize the windowsill’s dirty, so I clean that too, and it gets me on a roll, scrubbing the counters and the floors and the walls of the kitchen, where dirt has been secretly accumulating without my noticing. The top of the fridge where I keep the cereal boxes. The crack of space between the stove unit and the cupboards. I clean until my knees hurt and my nostrils burn from the soap and bleach, and then I listen to the silent message saved on my phone again, this time with earphones, so I can turn it all the way up. The shuffle is still there, hiding under a hum. Something human that does not speak.

It starts happening all the time. My voice mailbox fills up every two days, the mechanical-Marie alerting me loudly every time I punch in my password. The messages are always nearly silent, but one in every ten or so sounds slightly different. There’s a muted, tinny beeping through one of them. A sound that could be breathing, if you listen a certain way. A buzz like an air conditioner.

One night, I make a spreadsheet so I know how often the noises happen and colour-code it according to the time of day. I type the number into a search engine, but nothing comes up. I even search company directories online, trying to trace it to a corporation. Another night, I dream that something is watching me through the small camera lens on my phone, so I stick a little piece of green tape over it when I wake up.

Phil passes by my desk three or four times a day and we exchange nods. Friday at the Owl, he leaves early, after only one drink, so I go home and scroll through the spreadsheet, waiting for the phone to ring so I can make another entry. According to the numbers, I’ve been receiving more calls since that first voice message. It’s no longer three, five, seven times a day but thirteen, fifteen, seventeen. I cross-reference columns, trying to find a pattern, but there’s nothing there except for the fact that I never get the good voicemails, the human ones, more than once or twice a day.

It should be scary. I know this. It should make me feel anxious, like I’m under surveillance. But it makes work bearable, to have that phone constantly buzzing in my pocket where no one else can hear it. I suddenly like seeing Marie, because she doesn’t know that she sounds like the automated voicemail lady who greets me so fondly, and I wonder in my daydreams at the desk if Phil is actually the one making the calls, because maybe he doesn’t know how else to tell me he loves me.

My mother calls. I hear another call go through while she tells me about her new yoga class, and my hands shiver a little while I think about the new voicemail. She asks me if I’m dating anyone, and it slips out of my mouth: Yes, I am—actually, he’s here, I have to go. But of course she asks who, and I tell her, A man in my office, we get along great, it’s been a couple of months now.

“Well, well,” she says in a tone of voice that suggests she finds this difficult to believe, “What’s his name?”

Another call starts on the other line and my palms grow clammy. “Phi-Patrick.”

“What?” I resist the urge to hang up on her.

“Patrick,” I repeat. Maybe the voicemails have sharpened my ears somehow, because I can hear something that sounds just like if she was sucking on a cigarette. She hasn’t smoked since before I was born, though, and I refuse to ask her.

“It sounds like things are really looking up for you, darling. I couldn’t be happier. Just a little while ago you were telling me how bored you were, and terrified of never getting married. Is this Patrick—I mean, is he serious about you?”

My hand lowers the phone from my ear. There’s a translucent smear of sweat and beige makeup on the screen. Feeling as though my face is breaking down and sliding off me in wet little puddles, I half-cover the bottom half of the phone and call out to my empty kitchen, Patrick, hon, are you serious about me? and giggle.

“He says he’s not quite sure yet,” I say to her, laughing.

She laughs too. I hang up and wash my face.

***

I love it when Phil is nervous. This I realize at James’s retirement party, which I attend in a blue dress that makes my legs look longer than they really are. A big frosted cake has been ordered from the bakery in honour of James, his name piped over it in green and yellow, and a card that says, Now Real Life Can Begin! has been signed by everyone regardless of whether they spoke to James or not.

Phil gives a speech. It’s not clear to me why he is the one giving the speech instead of one of James’s friends. Maybe he is a bigger manager or agent or buyer or seller than I thought. He hands out glasses of champagne in the lunchroom and then takes a few index cards out of his pocket. He reads off them a few things about how lucky we have all been to benefit from the great attitude James brought into the office, and makes a joke about how some people think not working means being less tired, but others think it means being re-tired, tired again. Then he begins to talk about how much we’ll miss him. He must have copied the cards out wrong, because he reads the same one twice. He knows, too, but is too embarrassed to stop, and remains blotchy for minutes after everyone has toasted James and begun to chat again.

I watch from across the room, near the doorway, and he catches my eye and smiles. I gesture to him with my glass and point out the door, trying to ask if he wants to grab a drink later, but he shrugs and begins talking to someone.

Later on, at home, I watch the phone ring. For reassurance, I print off a copy of the spreadsheet, all eighty pages of it, and lay on my impeccably clean bedroom floor listening to the hum of the printer. I remember my favourite voicemails—the breathing, the definitely human shuffle. There will be someone, I tell myself, who can explain this to me. I smooth my hair and tuck it behind my ears before beginning to read over the notes on the spreadsheet again.

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patrick-watson · 5 years

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Your Economy May Be Fine, But It’s Not Just You

Looking at the official unemployment rate, American workers should be pretty happy. Almost everyone who wants a job has one.

Yet many aren’t happy at all. We see it in consumer sentiment, retail sales, and other indicators. We all hear it anecdotally from friends and family.

Some employers are unhappy too. They complain they can’t find qualified people to fill open positions, no matter how much they raise wages. This prevents them from expanding and may explain why economic growth lags previous recovery cycles.

How do these seemingly conflicting conditions things coexist at the same time? To answer that, we have to go deeper than macro analysis and look at the “micro picture.”

Growth Can’t Solve This

Christopher Cabaldon is the mayor of West Sacramento, California—a small but fast-growing city within a large metro area. So its problems reflect those of many other places, and Cabaldon is the one who has to handle them.

I saw him speak this month at the South by Southwest conference, on a panel called In the Red: How Americans Experience the Economy. With him were experts from the American Enterprise Institute, Aspen Institute, and Pew Charitable Trust who study this. I thought Cabaldon was the most interesting, though. His experience is practical as well as observational.

Cabaldon said lack of jobs isn’t the main challenge. Instead, he listed four other problems that help explain the stubborn discontent.

There’s a mismatch between the unfilled jobs and the skills of those who need jobs. Many don’t have the education or knowledge employers need. That’s not easily or quickly solved, even if taxpayers are willing to solve it.

Many of the unemployed are parents of small children. They want to work—and would, if they could get affordable childcare. It often costs more than they would earn from the low-wage jobs available to them.

People lack transportation from the areas where they can afford to live to the areas where jobs are available. Owning, fueling, and insuring a car is expensive. Mass transit— if it’s available—is still slow, which means they have to pay for more hours of childcare.

The criminal justice system increasingly punishes the working class with high fines, fees, and sometimes asset forfeiture for minor offenses. The traffic cameras that are a minor nuisance for wealthy people can lead to arrest warrants, job loss, and jail time for low-wage workers… which then makes finding jobs even harder.

These are tough problems because economic growth can’t solve them—at least not in the near future. Maybe we’ll have childcare robots at some point, but it doesn’t help today’s single parents.

Cash Flow Hiccups

Speaking on the same panel, Sheida Elmi from the Aspen Institute noted that short-term stability is a necessary condition for permanent success. Federal Reserve surveys show that four in 10 American adults can’t handle an unexpected $400 expense. These people have no cushion. Just one minor crisis—car repairs, illness, etc.—can quickly reverse any upward progress they make.

Elmi also said low wages aren’t the only barrier. Wage consistency is also problematic for “gig” workers and others whose income varies. On an annual basis, their income can look sufficient… but it really isn’t if the cash doesn’t come in at the same time bills are due.

Every business owner who’s had to plan cash flow should understand this. You try to match revenue and expenses, and have reserves for when they don’t. The reserves are some combination of savings and access to credit. Low-income Americans lack both, so the slightest cash-flow hiccup can be disastrous.

Left Out

Lately, we hear Wall Street people and their media allies lament about “socialism,” by which they mean higher taxes on the wealthy and more public benefits for the poor.

Looking at the way the lower half of the population lives, I don’t see why this surprises anyone. Low-income people can still vote. Of course they support policies that they believe will favor their own interests. That helped elect Donald Trump and helped give the House to Democrats last year.

These problems aren’t imaginary, and they won’t go away on their own. If you don’t want the affected people to rise up against you, the answer is to help solve their problems.

We should debate how to best do that, but we aren’t. I see mostly…

Denial that the problem exists (“These people don’t know how good they have it!”), or

Blind faith that a growing economy will solve it

Neither is correct. That today’s poor Americans suffer in different ways than previous generations doesn’t mean they are prospering. And it’s far from clear that the economy will keep growing or that the growth’s benefits will trickle down if it does.

Your particular part of the economy may be fine, but the economy isn’t just you. It will not stay fine if millions remain left out.

Helping them may be the best way to help yourself.

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I’m a senior editor at Mauldin Economics, helping New York Times best-seller John Mauldin publish his highly acclaimed economic analysis. Since 2001, investors have turned to his Thoughts from the Frontline to be informed about what’s really going on in the economy. Join hundreds of thousands of readers, and get it free in your inbox every week.

#unemployment #employment #employment rate

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skyblueinsurance · 5 years

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Metals Financing Fraud Lawsuits Reveal Risks of Relying on Paper Receipts

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When the man running one of London’s biggest metals brokerages found a new client who wanted to finance large volumes of nickel held in warehouses in Asia, he thought the deal promised major rewards. Less than a year later, he worried that the disastrous decision to go ahead with the trade would cost him his job.

Simon van den Born, global head of metals at Marex Spectron, expressed his concerns about Hong Kong-based Come Harvest Holdings on a call with colleagues in January 2017, after it emerged that some of the documents underpinning more than $30 million worth of financing deals with the company were fake, according to court disclosures in London last week.

“It might look kosher, but it ain’t f–king kosher,” van den Born told two colleagues who had been involved in the deal, documents filed by Marex’s insurer show. “It might cost me my job.”

The case lays bare the risks of relying on paper receipts, still prevalent in the global metals industry, even after a massive warehousing scam was uncovered in the Chinese port of Qingdao in 2014 that left banks and trading houses facing billions of dollars in losses. The warehouse documents are relied upon to prove every pound of metal involved in a transaction actually exists and who owns it.

Marex and representatives for CHH discussed doing deals totaling nearly $600 million over 2016 and 2017, and the brokerage approached French bank Natixis SA to finance the transactions. By the time the fraud was uncovered, Natixis had lent more than $30 million to Marex, which it had in turn passed on to CHH. To date, Marex’s efforts to recover the funds from CHH have proven largely unsuccessful, and Natixis is suing Marex to recoup its losses.

Marex and Natixis aren’t the only companies to be caught up. In a separate case in London, commodities brokerage ED&F Man has said it’s also out of pocket.

The link is the little-known Hong Kong-based CHH. In both cases, CHH provided the warehouse receipts that later turned out to be forgeries. ED&F is claiming damages of nearly $300 million from CHH and an associated company known as Mega Wealth International, based out of the same address.

There is “significant overlap” in the background of the two cases, lawyers for CHH said in a letter addressed to the trial judge, which was read out in court Jan. 22.

Natixis and other parties to the suit claim that Marex officials had concerns about dealing with CHH and its associate Steven Kao, but signed the contracts anyway. With CHH threatening to pull out unless the deal was concluded quickly, Kevin Nutt, chief operating officer of Marex’s metals business, told a colleague in a phone call in late 2016: “It just scares the sh-t out of me that they’re putting us under so much pressure for this.”

Marex’s Nutt said: “These guys — Steven Kao is sitting in that room saying ‘We’re dealing in billions of dollars every day.’ Y’know, he’s desperate for $5 million — really?”

CHH “honestly and reasonably believed” the documents to be genuine, according to its court documents filed in the ED&F Case. CHH Principal Wai Kwok Wong told Marex it was willing to undo the contracts, but didn’t have “liquid funds” available. Marex has so far recovered just $1 million.

“Our introduction to Come Harvest had come through very strong channels,” Nutt said in court. “We had also been told that Mr. Wong was a very wealthy Chinese businessman with properties in China which we wouldn’t expect to see necessarily in the financial statements of Come Harvest.”

In its filing, Marex said it “simply would not have undertaken the transactions at all if had entertained any material concerns as to the authenticity of the relevant warehouse receipts.”

Representatives for Marex and Natixis declined to comment. Simon Bushell, a lawyer for Come Harvest Holdings and Mega Wealth International Trading, said: “ED&F Man’s claims against Come Harvest and Mega Wealth are being vigorously defended.”

A lawyer for Steven Kao declined to comment.

The scandal has also embroiled a Glencore Plc-owned warehousing company that was storing the metal, with Marex alleging that it was involved in the conspiracy.

Access World said that the digital copies of receipts underpinning Marex’s initial deals appeared genuine, and in later transactions the brokerage flew a courier to Singapore to have documents physically authenticated. Access World confirmed that they were genuine, but when Natixis later took the documents to be tested again after the fraud had come to light, they failed Access World’s authentication checks.

If Access World’s “conduct were not to be fraudulent, there would have to have been a staggering coincidence,” Marex’s lawyer Alain Choo-Choy said, because Access World was authenticating receipts “at the same time as CHH was committing a fraud using those 16 receipts,” Choo-Choy said.

A representative for Access World declined to comment.

At around the same time, Access World uncovered a similar but unrelated fraud involving receipts held by Australia and New Zealand Banking Group Ltd. and ED&F Man, setting in motion their efforts to pursue CHH and Mega Wealth for damages in courts in the U.S., Asia and London.

“There is a sophisticated program going on here and it’s likely we’re caught up,” Marex’s van den Born told colleagues when details of the fraud emerged. “We could have a $30 million problem.”

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too-cute-foryou · 6 years

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I'm glad you like the WHO decision! I'm glad you like that actual dysphoric trans people will not longer be able to have their surgeries covered by insurance and have to pay out of fucking pocket to feel correct in their fucking bodies! I'm glad you like that suicide rates of actual trans people are going to go through the roof! I'm glad you like that transness is not a mental illness anymore, but seen as a sex disorder such as pedophilia! I'm glad you're fucking transphobic!!! I'm glad!!!!!!!!!

First of all, there was no need to phrase this so angrily, but I’m not going to hold it against you. Clearly the WHO decision elicited a very emotional response from you. And, clearly, you’re taking it out on me via my inbox. I get it. You’re probably stressed, you’re definitely jumping to conclusions, and you’re incapable of talking to the World Health Organization. What they decided made you mad or scared, but you don’t have any way to tell them that, so you’re telling me. Or, yelling at me and accusing me, more like. That’s fine. I really don’t blame you.

Emotional responses are hard to control, and sending messages like these can be some sort of release. I’m not upset and I don’t feel attacked. If anything, I’m glad you took it out on me specifically, because I know there are a lot of people who would be hurt by somebody coming into their inbox and screaming at them for being happy about something.

But, enough about that and enough about feelings, let’s talk about what your message is really about: The WHO decision.

From what you’ve said to me, I can assume that following things. You’re afraid it’ll affect your insurance coverage, you’re worried about suicide rates increasing, you’re concerned about being lumped into the same pile as pedophiles, and that I’m “transphobic”. So, I’ll acknowledge all of those things.

I honestly hope it helps you out, and I hope it calms your nerves and makes you feel less mad/afraid. I’m not trying to be condescending when I say that, and I’m sorry if it sounds like I am. Tone of voice is impossible to convey over text. It’s going to sound like I’m preaching from a soap box and looking down on you. But I swear I’m not. The rest of this is going to go under the cut, because I this is gonna be long.

So, number one, let’s talk about insurance companies and their coverage from now on.

I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know much about insurance. I’m 16 and I’ve never had to pay for it/worry about it. All I know is what we’ve talked about in my personal finance class and also one time my parent’s insurance stopped covering my therapy for a few months. That’s kind of the extent of my understanding. I’m gonna have to talk through the words of others.

The WHO’s decision probably won’t affect american insurance companies much, because the DSM is what stands in the states. I don’t know if you live in the states or not, but I hope that’s at least assuring? The WHO affects Europe. And, even then, Julia Ehrt (executive director of Transgender Europe) has said that she’s “elated to see that the WHO understands gender identity isn’t a mental health issue”

The WHO moved being transgender to the “sexual health” chapter. They didn’t remove it from the books entirely. Tt’s still there. It wasn’t ripped out of the records, and it wasn’t classified as cosmetic. It was simply moved to a category that fit it better.

My attention span isn’t too good right now, but after a bit of research, I found out that at some point the DSM did something similar(?). In the DSM-IV-TR it was “placed in the category of Sexual Disorders, with the subcategory of Gender Identity Disorders“ I’m not sure if it’s still there, since the DSM website doesn’t want to load for me, but it’s important to note that this is a change that is similar to the WHO decision. (I think, at least. Like I said I should probably do more research, but focusing is hard right now)

When The WHO decision was made, it wasn’t to fuck with insurance, and those concerns were explicitly addressed. “The change is expected to improve social acceptance among transgender people, while still making important health resources available”.

And, on top of that, Dr. Lale Say (coordinator of WHO’s Adolescents and at-Risk Populations team) says that it was “taken out from the mental health disorders because… leaving it there was causing stigma… to reduce the stigma while also ensuring access to necessary health interventions it was placed in a different chapter.”

I don’t know how insurance works, but I honestly don’t think it’ll affect insurance. And, even if it does, there’s no need to yell at me like I have a say in what is and isn’t covered. I’m just a stupid fucking sixteen year old on tumblr, my opinion makes no difference in what companies want to cover.

Now that we’ve covered that, let’s explore the next concern: transgender suicide rates and how the WHO decision will affect them. I’m going to have to be honest again because like… this is a hard topic to research? I can’t find very many sources or concrete statistics overtime. It’s hard to see if suicide rates have gone up or down, because I can’t find charts anywhere? (If you fine any, tell me) But, I don’t think the WHO decision will have much of an affect on suicide rates? Trans suicide rates are very high, but there’s so many factors that play into those rates, that it’s hard to say. I don’t know. There are plenty of resources out there, though, so I hope nobody kills themselves over this.

So, since I can’t say much about that, let’s move onto your next thing. The fact that being trans is now in the same category as pedophilia.

Before I even talk about that specifically, I wanna mention this: Margarine is one molecule away from plastic, humans are a few DNA links away from chimpanzees. Being close to something and being in the same category as something, doesn’t mean they’re the same or even similar.

But, that aside, let’s talk about it. The WHO now considers being transgender to be a “sexual health” thing. That’s a very broad category. Yes, that category has paraphilias in it (such as pedophilia) but it’s not just “oh there’s two sexual heath things, and those things are being trans and being a pedophile!”

The sexual health page on the WHO’s website mentions things like the need for knowledge about the body, education about healthy relationships, gender equality, the need for freedom from discrimination based on sexual orientation, access to reproductive health care, and many many more things.

They’re not saying trans people are the same thing as pedophiles. They’re putting being trans in a category that fits it more. It’s not a mental disorder, it’s identifying as something that isn’t your birth sex.

Say what you want about this, and think what you want about the category, but don’t go running around screaming that “THE WHO THINKS TRANS PEOPLE ARE PEDOPHILES!11!!1″ because that is not what’s happening at all.

And, to talk about your last point, I’m not transphobic. I’m literally trans.

The WHO decisions probably won’t have the implications you think it will, and it’s more than likely a good thing. You don’t need to run around scared and screaming like a chicken with it’s head cut off. And, you don’t need to yell at me or accuse me of being a terrible transphobic asshole because I apparently “like the idea of these terrible consequences that won’t even happen.”

This is probably my longest post ever, so sorry for that. I hope this was coherent. I’m tired. Idk. You’re getting panicked over something that shouldn’t be causing panic, and you’re yelling at me for a decision I didn’t even make.

#truscum #transmedicalist #transmed #anti-truscum #anti-transmedicalist #anti-transmed #tucute #transgender #world health organization #who decision #discourse

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patriotsnet · 3 years

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How Many Votes Do Republicans Need To Repeal Obamacare

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/how-many-votes-do-republicans-need-to-repeal-obamacare/

How Many Votes Do Republicans Need To Repeal Obamacare

Schumer: ‘we Can Work Together Our Country Demands It’

Senate Republicans fail to get necessary votes to repeal and replace Obamacare

Until the end, passage on the Health Care Freedom Act, also dubbed the skinny repeal, was never certain. Even Republicans who voted for it disliked the bill.

The skinny bill as policy is a disaster. The skinny bill as a replacement for Obamacare is a fraud. The skinny bill is a vehicle to getting conference to find a replacement, Sen. Lindsey Graham, R-S.C., said at a Thursday evening news conference hours before the vote alongside fellow Republicans McCain, Ron Johnson and Bill Cassidy, before the details were released.

The skinny repeal was far from Republicans campaign promise of also rolling back Medicaid expansion, insurance subsidies, Obamacare taxes, and insurance regulations.

Many Republicans who did vote for it said they were holding their nose to vote for it just to advance the process into negotiations with the House of Representatives.

The legislation included a repeal of the individual mandate to purchase insurance, a repeal of the employer mandate to provide insurance, a one-year defunding of Planned Parenthood, a provision giving states more flexibility to opt out of insurance regulations, and a three-year repeal of the medical device tax. It also would have increased the amount that people can contribute to Health Savings Accounts.

Leigh Ann Caldwell is an NBC News correspondent.

Kevin Mccarthy: Republicans Can Repeal Obamacare Before Replacing It

House Majority Leader Kevin McCarthy said Tuesday that Republicans could repeal Obamacare before finding a replacement for it, according to the Hill.

I dont think you have to wait, McCarthy told reporters. My personal belief, and nothings been decided yet, but I would move through and repeal and then go to work on replacing.

But healthcare experts, including some Republicans, say this approach could cause chaos for Obamacare enrollees and the insurance market during that period of time between the repeal of the law and when a replacement is found.

McCarthy and others have called for a transition period where Obamacare would be phased out gradually over a period of two years or another specified period of time after a repeal of the law is passed.

Even so, critics have said that insurers could leave the system once they know the law is being phased out, leaving no options for those enrolled in Obamacare for 2018.

Insurers have already left the exchanges in some states, leaving people with only one insurer to choose from when purchasing plans on the exchange.

The task of repealing and replacing Obamacare at the same time, however, could prove difficult for Republicans.

They need just 50 votes in the Senate to repeal the core of the healthcare law, but they need 60 votes in the Senate to pass a replacement to the law, which means the replacement would have to have support from Democrats as well as Republicans.

What We Learned In The House: Support For A Repeal Bill Can Happen Quickly

One lesson Ive taken from the past year of covering the Obamacare repeal-and-replace debate is that these bills look doomed to fail up until the moment they dont.

Take, for example, the American Health Care Act that the House passed this May. Within 48 hours, the bill went from doomed to sailing right through. The most puzzling part was how little happened in between.

Moderate Republicans like Rep. Fred Upton were critical of the bill because of how it could affect Americans with preexisting conditions. Upton publicly came out against the Obamacare repeal bill on May 2 in an interview with a local radio station. But literally the next day, he announced that a small tweak to the bill would win his support.

The tweaks didnt actually fix the core problems that Upton had with the bill. He secured a small pot of funding to help those with preexisting conditions and used that as cover to vote for a bill that would cause 22 million Americans to lose coverage.

Other Republicans quickly fell in line behind Upton, even though no major changes were made to quell their concerns, and the American Health Care Act passed the House on May 4.

Of course, some Republican plans that look doomed are, in fact, doomed. But at this stage, its really hard to tell the difference. Sometimes, as we saw in the House, a small amendment can make all the difference in flipping the key no votes to yes. Sometimes, as weve seen in the Senate, the votes just arent there.

You May Like: How Many Registered Republicans Are In The United States

Trumps Executive Action Could Erode Marketplace Built Under Obamacare

Attempts to repeal portions of the Affordable Care Act have failed in the past several months, leading President Donald Trump to issue an executive order expanding access to cheaper, less comprehensive health care plans.

The order, signed on Oct. 12, instructs federal agencies to remove certain limitations on “association health plans” and expand the availability of short-term health plans, both of which can skirt certain minimum coverage requirements included in the Affordable Care Act and state laws.

These changes will not immediately take effect; federal agencies will have to figure out how to act on Trump’s directions.

The executive action orders agencies to explore ways in which the government can expand access to short-term health plans, which are available to individuals on a three-month basis and meant for people who are in-between health care coverage plans. Under the instructions, association health plans would be allowed to sell plans across state lines; those plans allow small businesses to band together to create cheaper health care plans that offer fewer benefits.

The order was intended to create more options for individuals seeking health insurance and help stimulate competition among insurers. Some health policy advocates worry that it could disrupt the insurance marketplace in a way that would drive up health care costs for elderly individuals and people with medical conditions.

It will be months before changes are seen in the marketplace.

Likely To Vote No: 1 Senate Republican

Alaskas Lisa Murkowski also voted against all three versions of repeal in July, criticizing what she viewed as an overly secretive and partisan process to write the various bills and raising concerns about the Medicaid cuts. She has not slammed the GOP repeal effort as aggressively as Collins, but she does not sound especially inclined to back Cassidy-Graham.

So if Collins and Murkowski are no votes, Republicans need all four members below to vote yes.

Recommended Reading: How Many Seats Do Republicans Hold In Congress

Senate Gop Tries One Last Time To Repeal Obamacare

McConnell and his lieutenants will gauge support for the bill this week in private party meetings.

By BURGESS EVERETT and JOSH DAWSEY

09/17/2017 02:51 PM EDT

Republicans say Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell wont bring up the bill if there is any chance of failure, given the dramatic collapse in the summer. | john Shinkle/POLITICO

Obamacare repeal is on the brink of coming back from the dead.

Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell and his leadership team are seriously considering voting on a bill that would scale back the federal governments role in the health care system and instead provide block grants to states, congressional and Trump administration sources said.

It would be a last-ditch attempt to repeal Obamacare before the GOPs power to pass health care legislation through a party-line vote in the Senate expires on Sept. 30.

No final decision has been made, but the GOP leader has told his caucus that if the bill written by Sens. Lindsey Graham and Bill Cassidy has the support of at least 50 of the 52 GOP senators, he will bring it to the floor, Graham and Cassidy say. That would give Republicans one more crack at repealing the Affordable Care Act, a longtime party pledge.

Your guide to the permanent campaign weekday mornings, in your inbox.

Some Republicans believe that if the bill were put on the floor Monday, it would have the support of 49 senators.

Obama: Gop Blocked 500 Bills

President Barack Obama is railing against congressional Republicans, telling a Hollywood crowd that the midterm elections are crucial because the GOP is willing to say no to everything.

The president, speaking at a Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee event Wednesday evening hosted at Walt Disney Studios Chairman Alan Horns home, said Republicans have been obstructionist since even before he took office.

Their willingness to say no to everything the fact that since 2007, they have filibustered about 500 pieces of legislation that would help the middle class just gives you a sense of how opposed they are to any progress has actually led to an increase in cynicism and discouragement among the people who were counting on us to fight for them, Obama said of Republicans.

The conclusion is, well, nothing works, the president continued. And the problem is, is that for the folks worth fighting for for the person whos cleaning up that house or hotel, for the guy who used to work on construction but now has been laid off they need us. Not because they want a handout, but because they know that government can serve an important function in unleashing the power of our private sector.

Obama opened by saying that he is in trouble at home, because in 2012 he had told his wife, first lady Michelle Obama, that he had run his last campaign.

Recommended Reading: When Did Republicans Turn Against Nixon

Wild Cards: 4 Senate Republicans

Utahs Mike Lee and Kentuckys Rand Paul have been continual roadblocks for Republicans during the repeal process, fighting it from the right and essentially opposing any legislation that leaves Obamacares rules and regulations in place. Lee has been noncommittal about Cassidy-Graham. But Paul has attacked it, arguing that it still gives states the choice and ability to effectively leave Obamacare in place. He sounds like a hard no right now, but Im skeptical he would cast the vote to block an Obamacare repeal bill. The reason: Paul has cultivated a brand as a strong conservative, so a vote that would, in effect, save Obamacare would not be ideal for him.

Kansass Jerry Moran, meanwhile, has been a vocal defender of Medicaid, so its not clear if he would back a bill that cuts Medicaid as much as Graham-Cassidy does.

McCain, for his part, was a key vote against Obamacare repeal in July and it seemed like a capstone to the Arizona senators career as a self-described maverick. He urged Republicans just this Sunday not to engage in a hurried process that skips over the relevant committees and doesnt include Democrats. Cassidy-Graham is being rushed, hasnt gone through the committees for hearings and has no Democratic support.

Want the latest politics news? Get it in your inbox.

Gop Has A Month To Pass Obamacare Repeal With 51

Republicans vote to repeal Obamacare

If Republicans want to try again to repeal the Affordable Care Act with just a simple majority, they only have until the end of September to do it.

Thats according to Sen. Bernie Sanders, the ranking member on the Senates budget committee. According to Sanders, the Senate parliamentarian declared Friday that the Senates 2017 budget resolution, which gave reconciliation instructions to repeal Obamacare, will expire at the end of the month.

That means that Republican senators will either have to pass a new budget to repeal health care with a simple majority or they will have to have 60 votes a filibuster-proof majority to make changes to Obamacare.

The parliamentarians office declined to comment to CNN, saying its policy was not to speak with the media. CNN has reached out to Republicans on the Senate budget committee about whether they agree with Sanders assessment.

Todays determination by the Senate parliamentarian is a major victory for the American people and everyone who fought against President Trumps attempt to take away health care from up to 32 million people, Sanders said in a statement. Now that the parliamentarian has determined that Senate Republicans cannot use reconciliation instructions to repeal the Affordable Care Act beyond this fiscal year, we need to work together to expand, not cut, health care for millions of Americans who desperately need it.

CNNs Manu Raju and Ted Barrett contributed to this report.

Don’t Miss: How Do Republicans Really Feel About Trump

Trumps Promise To Repeal Obamacare Is Now In Limbo

President Donald Trump expressed disappointment after Republican lawmakers’ failure to muster enough votes to repeal Obamacare placed one of his loftiest campaign promises in limbo.

A series of defections by Senate Republicans scuttled two separate efforts to dismantle the sweeping U.S. health care law put in place by Trump’s predecessor, President Barack Obama.

“We’ve had a lot of victories, but we haven’t had a victory on health care,” Trump told reporters July 18, as it became clear the latest Republican legislative efforts would fail. “We’re disappointed.”

A slim margin of error constrained GOP efforts to repeal and replace Obamacare and forced a delicate balancing act between the party’s conservative and moderate members.

But defections by Sens. Jerry Moran of Kansas and Mike Lee of Utah on July 17 brought to four the number of Republican senators to publicly oppose the bill , effectively killing the repeal-and-replace plan. Senate leadership could only afford to lose two Republican votes for passage.

Senate Republicans then turned their attention to a measure that would repeal major parts of Obamacare over two years, in theory buying lawmakers enough time to agree on a replacement plan before the Affordable Care Act, often called Obamacare, was largely dismantled.

“I did not come to Washington to hurt people,” Capito said in a statement. “I cannot vote to repeal Obamacare without a replacement plan that addresses my concerns and the needs of West Virginians.”

Gop Aims To Kill Obamacare Yet Again After Failing 70 Times

Chris Riotta U.S.Donald TrumpAffordable Care ActObamacare

The GOP may be down for the count in it’s failed attempts to repeal and replace former President Barack Obama’s Affordable Care Actbut don’t count Lindsey Graham out just yet.

President Donald Trump met with the South Carolina senator and one of his fiercest critics in the Republican party on Friday night to discuss a bill that would effectively block Obamacare funding, according to two sources familiar with the meeting and legislation currently being drafted. Republican officials tell Politico Graham’s bill could potentially reach 50 votes after a series of failed attempts in recent weeks to both repeal and replace, then simply repeal, Obama’s landmark health care initiative.

After last week’s latest attempt to remove provisions of Obamacare ended with Sen. John McCain’s dramatic “no” vote effectively keeping it alive along with two other senators, Newsweek has found at least 70 Republican-led attempts to repeal, modify or otherwise curb the Affordable Care Act since its inception as law on March 23, 2010.

“I had a great meeting with the President and know he remains fully committed to repealing and replacing Obamacare,” Graham said in a statement Friday night. “President Trump was optimistic about the Graham-Cassidy-Heller proposal. I will continue to work with President Trump and his team to move the idea forward.”

How many more times that may take, is anyone’s guess.

Also Check: Which Republicans Voted To Impeach Trump Today

Dylan Scott guides you through the fallout of the Covid-19 pandemic and the health care policies that matter most.

Analysts expect the bill would lead to millions of Americans losing coverage, similar to previous Republican repeal bills. Republicans might not even know the full extent of the new bills effects on the health care system because they are likely to vote on the bill before the Congressional Budget Office can release its full analysis. The CBO is rushing to at least a provide a bare-bones analysis by early next week. The Senate has now scheduled two hearings for Monday and Tuesday on the bill.

Senate Republicans need 50 votes to pass this bill, meaning only two Republicans can defect. As my colleague Dylan Scott has pointed out, Republicans always have 45 or so votes to repeal Obamacare. Its the last five that are the battleground.

Several senators who opposed the last Obamacare repeal effort havent taken an official position yet. So the vote could fail just like past Republican attempts. But all signs we have from Capitol Hill suggest that it could pass. Cassidy is actively working to persuade senators to vote for the bill and reaching out to governors, too, to pressure their senators.

Ive had governors calling up their senators, 14 or 15 governors, saying you need to get on this, Cassidy told reporters at a Friday morning briefing.

Gop Health Care Bill Would Cut About $765 Billion In Taxes Over 10 Years

But sentiment has changed on Obamacare, with Gallup Poll finding this month that 55 percent now approve of the ACA.

The AHCA faces a much tougher road in the Senate, and if it dies there, some of those vulnerable GOP members may have made what ends up being a futile vote.

But there’s another side to consider, too. For Republicans who have made the refrain “repeal and replace Obamacare” their mantra for seven years now, not acting on their signature campaign promise could risk depleting enthusiasm among their core voters, who they also need to turn out in November 2018 to combat a Democratic base that is energized against President Trump.

And after the first attempt at repeal failed in an embarrassing fashion, House Republicans and Trump badly needed a win. That’s why they took a victory lap in the White House Rose Garden on Thursday afternoon, even though the bill is far from becoming law.

“The American people expected us to deliver on the promises we’ve made and that’s what House Republicans have just done,” National Republican Congressional Committee communications director Matt Gorman wrote in a memo after the vote.

Republicans have pointed out that more insurance companies are pulling out of state-run exchanges, and the GOP bill will cut about $765 billion in taxes over the next decade, NPR’s Scott Horsley reported, though mostly for wealthy Americans.

Thank you @RepMimiWalters and for standing in front!

Meredith Kelly May 4, 2017

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