During my early-millennial adolescence, the mere thought of approaching a prospective date could send my stomach twisting. What should I wear? What should I say? What will she think? What, fear of all fears, if she says no? One thought that never accompanied these palpitations: Who did she cast her last ballot for? Or, what if she asks me about mine? I can recall multiple semi-serious relationships lasting six months or more that involved not a single conversation about politics. New to Commonplace?