Back in the day (and I’m talking back), when I worked on Capitol Hill, I met my very first boyfriend. Kurt was from Paducah, Ky., and worked for a fairly moderate Republican at the time, a senator named Mitch McConnell.
We were both in the closet, and I would pick Kurt up in my car at discrete locations. We never really spoke about politics, because it really didn’t matter. The only thing I vaguely recall him telling me about McConnell was that they put lipstick on him for TV appearances since his mouth is like a knife slash.
And, one of my best drinking buddies during that period, worked — um, let’s say toiled for then-Rep. Rick Santorum. I only knew that Santorum was an absolute jerk because I sat next to him at a dinner on the Hill one night and witnessed his rude and obnoxious behavior. He was childishly upset about getting the right dinner rolls. But again, with Will, there was never any talk about politics. We just had a good time over lots and lots of beers.
That’s the way it was then in Congress. You had friends across party lines, and anyone who was virulently political was usually also friendless.