I Don’t Trust Polls

I don’t trust polls. One had Trump up, another had Biden up. Somebody’s lying.

I don’t trust polls. Every time I try to conduct one myself, something goes wrong.

I don’t trust polls. Why does ABC know something CNN doesn’t? Shouldn’t it share?

I don’t trust polls. Polls once told me to get bangs. Well, a poll of my three closest friends.

I don’t trust polls. If you already know the result of an election, what’s the point in voting? And, if you don’t know, why are you wasting my time?

I don’t trust polls. Polls are how I learned two of my friends hate me.

I don’t trust polls. Is Taylor Swift included in your “representative sample”? Because there’s no one like her, so if you don’t include her you can’t accurately reflect the electorate. Think about it.

I don’t trust polls. I have a square face. What were my friends thinking?

I don’t trust polls. Some of them sample only, like, five thousand people. Surely at least five thousand and three people vote. Or maybe five thousand and two? Anyway, more than five thousand.

I don’t trust polls. Even the stylist seemed to think it was a bad idea, but I was, like, “No, no—I polled my friends. This is what I want. I trust them. I polled them.”

I don’t trust polls. Why so many Nates? I’ve met only one Nate in my life. Pollsters are an unrepresentative sample. And how can an unrepresentative sample find a representative sample to poll? Which brings us back to the Taylor Swift question.

I don’t trust polls. I had to avoid mirrors for months.

I don’t trust polls. We don’t even let the person with the most votes win the actual election, so why would a poll matter?

I don’t trust polls. My hair was already thin—how could I afford to waste any around the front of my face? Why did I take a poll? Why?!

I don’t trust polls. If you’re smart enough to predict the future, why would you work in politics? Why wouldn’t you be retired? Is it because of GameStop?

I don’t trust polls. My husband left me.

I don’t trust polls. Their sample pool is people who answer calls from unknown numbers. Creepy.

I don’t trust polls. Well, he left two years after I got bangs, but it seems related. Nothing was ever the same, after the bangs thing.

I don’t trust polls. How come their margin of error is five per cent, and yet they’re almost always wrong? It feels like the margin of error should be called the “margin of correctness.”

I don’t trust polls. I’m so lonely. I need to change up my life again—any ideas?

I don’t trust polls. Why are there two “L”s? Seems redundant.

I don’t trust polls. But if you really think the solution is . . . bangs, again? I guess I’ll try it. ♦