Mitt Romney's Bank Account Speaks Out - Image 1
A lot of you don't like me, I know. You say I'm too fat, or that I was unfairly created by shutting down factories and destroying jobs. Also, you're probably a little jealous that I live in the Caribbean.

Sorry, but being Mitt Romney's bank account isn't easy. Do you know how long I had to spend just sitting around, waiting for him to spend me on something other than a Cadillac? And clothes, and vacations, and houses, and another Cadillac, and probably some smallish nation-states in Central America?

Not that long, actually. Mitt's more or less been using me to run for president since 2003.

Still, my job gets frustrating. I'm supposed to be there for him — to pay for a roof over his head, and for a doctor if he ever gets sick. You know, millionaire stuff.

But it gets hard to help him when he keeps calling attention to me. He'll talk about how all his friends own sports teams, or insist that corporations are people. Or use words like "marvelous," which, let's be honest, is something you only say if you grew up wearing a top hat sometimes just because you owned one.

Poor people don't own top hats.

Yet do I ever complain? Do I ever once ask for a thank-you? No. Not even when I do something crucial, like hire a new debate coach. Or, just as crucial, pay for that random guy off the street who advised that Romney not clench his jaw and anus so tightly.

That helped him connect better with the middle-class.

The real problem is that Mitt can't decide if he's proud or ashamed of me. One minute he's bragging about the money he's made in his career as a businessman, the next he's down inMississippi saying "y'all" and talking about eating grits for breakfast.

(I don't know what grits means. But I know you don't eat it if you can afford not to.)

What Mitt and I need is some kind of signal. That way I won't be such a liability. So if we're walking down the street and we see a voter who makes under, say, $400,000 a year, I'll pretend to be doing some sort of charitable work. Like handing out meat pies to sooty young chimneysweeps, or not actively courting an electorate that hates immigrants.

But maybe I should cheer up. Sure, Mitt's quirky, and it's annoying when he uses me on things he doesn't need. (Seriously, when will he have time to use a Bowflex?) But I have a pretty good life compared to most bank accounts. Do you know the stuff Donald Trump's has to put up with?

Me neither. All I know is it has to spend time with Donald Trump.

Illustrated by Nathan Yaffe.