The way to a voter's heart isn't necessarily through the stomach

These days, my biggest fear is that I'm going to make the wrong choice.

And my bad call is going to lead to an outcome that's bad for the country and bad for me and bad for middle-class America and bad for the troops.

Every decision now is made through the prism of the election. Every little misstep can be construed as support for one candidate or the other. And that's why it takes hours of deliberation and research before making the most basic selections at restaurants or grocery stores.

The stress of a simple question like "What'll you have?" can send me into shock. David Brooks and Rachel Maddow ring in my ears. It's become so bad I'm developing psoriasis on my right elbow, or what I like to call this time of year, my "voting elbow."

Want a coffee at 7-Eleven? Pick a red cup or blue cup based on your political preference.

On Oct. 24, at nine diners in Cape Charles on the Eastern Shore, people will be asked to choose from dishes like Cream of Barackoli soup or McCainaroni.

At the Silver Diner, whether you support a Republican or Democrat is determined by ordering a Southwestern omelet or a Chicago-style omelet.

Baskin Robbins is scooping up Straight Talk Crunch or Whirl of Change.

For the love of Tim Russert's white board, the cuteness is killing me. The clever (and even not-so-clever) puns are wearing me down.

Can't I just have a little Rocky Road without it meaning something about my feelings toward how to pay for transportation infrastructure? How many more days until I'm forced to order a sandwich by saying, "I don't want it on Drake; I'll try it on Nye."

If I order a pulled-pork sandwich, does that mean I support a line-item veto of pork barrel spending, or does it mean I'm a tax-and-spend liberal if I ask for extra sauce?

The whole thing is crippling. This is too much pressure. Our stomachs are not bellwethers.

Sometimes the greatest meaning can be found in the smallest details.

But it could also just mean I'm hungry for some mac and cheese.

Mike Gruss, (757) 446-2277, mike.gruss@pilotonline.com