"Mrs. Cortez, we have a problem."Maria"s trusted aide, Paul, ran into her office. He was a nervous little fellow, a brown noser, but he did his job.
"You"ve been spending too much money! Sure, school funding is important. But renovating parks? Fixing potholes? Not to mention lowering parking ticket fines. That"s the bread and b.u.t.ter of our county!"
"Calm down, Paul. The people are happy. I"ve been getting letters from nice old grandmas and grandpas about how nice the parks look. They love those benches."
"Mrs. Cortez, we"re running a deficit! The conservative party is going to have a field day with this. You"re going to lose the next election, for sure, if things go on like this."
"Besides, the budget is important. People are already expressing concern. Budgeting is no joke."
"Wow, Paul, you"re sounding like a conservative."
"It"s just realpolitik, Maria!"
"Cool it with your poli-sci major, Paul." Maria laughed.
Maria was worried though. Not because of her looming defeat in the horizon. Although, she did like the respect people showed her, especially her fellow statesmen. Or, statespeople, rather. They even feared her. Things seemed to bend to her will. People on the other side of the aisle were whispering about how she made a pact with the devil. "The Demon", is what they called her. It made it worse that their party members were being rocked by scandals left and right.
Her party loved her. Obviously. She was a rising star. But the more established party elites were concerned. It was too much spending, for sure.
Maria didn"t let power get to her head. But she felt she had gone a little overboard. She had to deal with the budget.
Then, she got a crazy idea. Real crazy.
"How about a new tax?"
"What?!" Paul screamed. "Mrs. COrtez. Are you listening to yourself? That"s political suicide!"
"I don"t care. I can do good in office, and taxes are a necessary evil. It"s a part of life. Realpolitik."
"I got it! A soda tax! Helps public health. And people love soda. It"ll generate a lot of revenue."
Paul looked aghast. But, he pondered for a bit. She was right. It would generate revenue. And help public health. Maybe.
Besides, Paul was afraid of Maria, too. He saw how everything just seemed to work out for her. It was abnormal. And he was a sycophant, at heart, and he was glad to ride on her coattails. Maybe things will go her way this time, too.
"Alright, Mrs. Cortez. What do you propose?"
Maria paused, then said it. "A quarter."
Paul fainted.
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"She"s out of control!" Bill, the deli owner, shook his head.
Maria had announced the new soda tax in a big announcement. She sold it as a public health initiative. Statistics about diabetes and sugar. People weren"t happy. Especially Bill, the deli owner.
"What"s wrong with a soda tax. It"ll go a long way in funding our schools and parks." Charles defended Maria. He loved her.
"I don"t know. A quarter? Per can? I guess it"s ok that it"s also a quarter for bottles and liters, but that"s a bit..." Susan was skeptical. She did work in a deli, and it might hurt the business.
"It"s crazy, I tell you! It"s going to hurt business. And the soda companies won"t stand for it!" Bill, the proud deli owner, was beside himself.
Charles knew when to shut his mouth. He was an employee after all. But the mood in the deli was a bit tense.
Fred shook his head. Politics had made its way into a deli. The knife was right. About consequences. And its name was soda tax.
Fred wasn"t a political person, and he had no agenda when he "helped" out Maria. He took those political compa.s.s quizzes a few times, and the results were different, every time. He had a few ideals, but he wasn"t a fanatic, or anything. Besides, he liked what Maria did in office. The parks looked great.
"A man should know where he stands Fred."
Fred jumped. Susan, who was next to him, got startled. "The f.u.c.k, Fred!"
Fred ignored her. It had been years since he heard the knife.
"It doesn"t matter what the position you take. And it doesn"t matter how strongly you advocate for them. But you can"t be wishy washy all the time, Fred."
Fred felt a bit attacked. He had been complacent in life. The election "tampering" was done on a whim. He realized now, that it had consequences. And its name was soda tax.
"Well, I helped her out once. Might as well help her out some more."
Fred watched the TV with Maria going on about heart disease. Her proposal was going to be shot down in flames. Fred blinked, and that future was gone.
Consequence, thy name is soda tax.