One day, you're a prospective leader of one of the most powerful nations in the history of human civilization. The next, you're just some fucking dude.
And fucking dudes don't need no goddamn Secret Service agents protecting them. So the goddamn Secret Service agents leave. And they don't waste no time doing it…
At some point, early Wednesday morning, when Gov. Mitt Romney and family were tucked into bed, a quiet call went out on the radio channel used by his Secret Service agents: "Javelin, Jockey details, all posts, discontinue."
Of all the indignities involved in losing a presidential race, none is more stark than the sudden emptiness of your entourage. The Secret Service detail guarding Governor Romney since Feb 1. stood down quickly. He had ridden in a 15-car motorcade to the Intercontinental Hotel in Boston for his concession speech. He rode in a single-car motorcade back across the Charles River to Belmont. His son, Tagg, did the driving.
So, they just disappeared in the middle of the night? Like ninjas? I don't know. That seems kind of rough. I mean, sure, it was a professional relationship. But still, you spend months practically living with a person, there's got to be a nicer, more human way to say goodbye…
From the moment Mitt Romney stepped off stage Tuesday night, having just delivered a brief concession speech he wrote only that evening, the massive infrastructure surrounding his campaign quickly began to disassemble itself. Aides taking cabs home late that night got rude awakenings when they found the credit cards linked to the campaign no longer worked.
Alright, I know what you're thinking, but allow me to come to Romney's defense if you don't mind: Those people were employees. So, I'm not sure that they actually count as humans.
Photo by Justin Sullivan/Getty Images News/Getty Images
Tags: Mitt Romney, Money, Secret Service