Political oracle Nate Silver shuffles into the kitchen. He pours himself an orange juice. He spits it out, there’s vodka in it, when last night did he decide to dump vodka in the orange juice carton?
Nate squeezes an iPhone on his shoulder, that exaggerated sideways scrunch we all make now that our phones shrank but we still have things to do with our hands, and we refuse to wear a Bluetooth. Karl Rove is yelling at Nate from inside the iPhone. He’s asking Nate to run the numbers in Ohio one more time. Just to be safe. He’s reminding Nate that he (Karl) has been here before, and they made a TV movie about it, with this really embarrassing scene at the end where Al Gore calls up the guy whose memoir the movie is based on and basically gives his asshole a good tongue-licking. Nate says “It’s too early in the morning to hear you talk like this” and puts down the iPhone.
Celebrated pundit-killer Nate Silver eats a bowl of corn flakes with a spoonful of sugar and wonders why he didn’t just buy frosted flakes. He flicks through the New York Times. He likes the wind-pattern political map on the front page. He shares it on his Facebook.
Nate Silver walks around his neighborhood in his pajamas and a coat. The girl at the Bean recognizes him today. She tells him he never told her he was famous. He tells her that’s because he’s not.
Nate pokes around the Strand for a couple hours. He texts a few journalists back. He spends enough time with the last copy of Habibi that the clerk starts giving him looks, so he buys it and finishes it at home.
Nate Silver plays a few rounds of Letterpress. He clips his toenails. He buys some groceries so he doesn’t have to go out to eat in the storm.
In a year or two, we will need him again. But right now Nate Silver is reading A Storm of Swords and checking online if everyone’s travel times really synch up. Tomorrow he might buy some sneakers.