The timing on Romney’s drop from the Republican race is suspect, isn’t it? Here John McCain was literally on his way to a major conservative conference, where he was going to have to listen and accede to various demands or risk having them throw their full weight behind Romney, and suddenly Romney’s gone. Now McCain can walk out onto that stage with his dick out, leading a pack of gay illegal immigrants who form human pyramids behind him, recite into the microphone the lyrics to “My Neck, My Back” in lieu of a speech, and close by skullfucking the corpse of Ronald Reagan while giant American flags descend and are subsequently lit on fire, and there will be nothing that the CPAC can do to stop him from representing their party in the 2008 Presidential election.

Somebody got paid off. Secretary of the Interior Mitt Romney? Secretary of State? Probably not VP…

Well, what can you do? I’ll sure miss the guy. I expect Huckabee could go at literally any minute now, as he’s been mathematically eliminated from playoff consideration (as there aren’t 1,010 uncommitted delegates remaining) and there’s no one left for him to play spoiler/kingmaker with. With a bit of luck, McCain will have a heart attack in two weeks, and Ron Paul will end up the candidate, and the Internet will break with joy.

In the meantime, it’s a good week for quitters. Inspired by this sudden move from the Romney campaign, I’ve decided, in this time of war, to suspend my employment with the bookshop in which I recently took a part-time job. It took about an hour for me to realize that I had a good reason for ceasing to take on meaningless retail employment, and that I was not eager to return to it.

My reasons for quitting are pretty mediocre, but so were my reasons for taking the job. Mostly I was a little bit bored some days and thought I’d enjoy having a place to be; as it turns out, I’m more bored at work and don’t enjoy it, and that is pretty much that. Hopefully there will be more Professional American work on the horizon, and if not I have a terrific idea for a money-making venture that is more my style, more along the lines of an imaginary moving company than a steady, regular paycheck-drawing job. The possibilities are limited only by my imagination, which I have regained a good deal of confidence in. Sorry, Magma Books- it ain’t you, it’s me, and we shall hopefully part as friends.

Hrm. And hopefully no one from the shop is aware of this blog. That’d be a bit creepy, but they have my email address, after all… Well, if this is how you find out, so be it. Do me a favor, Marc or Jon or Montsie, and act surprised when I tell you tomorrow that it’s not working out.

At any rate- yeah, retail is no longer the place for me, if it ever was, and it took only three days to convince me of that quite firmly. Yesterday was spent at their Covent Garden location, working with a wee Scottish lass who could not understand my accent. It’s the first time I’ve met someone who couldn’t clearly decipher what is, I think, a fairly standard American accent with a little bit of Texas and a smidge of Midwesterner within it. It’s an uncomfortable situation, which I tried to account for by pretending that I couldn’t understand her, either. Don’t they have American movies and television in Scotland? Does she struggle to follow along when she watches lost…? But this is not why I am leaving, and this will amount to a pretty inconsequential tale of the middle period of my time in London. I am scheduled to work through the weekend, and will offer to do so, and then I will move on to a new plan.

Just like Mitt Romney, I guess. Whether his plan is a cabinet job in a McCain administration or the Vice Presidency of the United States of America, I’m guessing that the obstacles that still stand in front those possibilities are greater than the ones that I will have to overcome in order to start delivering homemade cookies on my bicycle. Onward to the next thing!

Oh, and finally- week two of my column at takingtigermountain.com, the thirtying, is up now.