She is up like a shot. One would never guess that less than a minute ago she had been sound asleep. Now, she is striding through the Gate like General Patton. The lobbyists, sensing her power and determination, part and make way for her.

Marina heads to the Clerk of the Assembly’s office. A printed list of who voted in favor and who voted against SB 1662 is already available. Marina snatches two copies, thrusts one at my chest, and marches out.

Now even two cell phones aren’t enough for Marina. She barks out a phone number and tells me to use my phone to page someone. I dial the number: it’s been disconnected. I can’t help but feel it’s an allegory.

Suddenly, labor lobbyists are arriving from all directions at a full run, responding to Marina’s summons. They don’t need to be told what has happened or what to do. They drop to their knees, throw business cards down on the floor and furiously write notes to be handed to legislators.

The lobbyist Kathleen Snodgrass is located in Assemblyperson Papan’s office. She grabs my copy of the tally sheet and starts circling names. "I can get him, I can get her", she is saying, to no one in particular. I feel like I’m inside a kaleidoscope, everything swirling and changing.

I am sent for more tally sheets. When I ask the Clerk for a SB 1662 tally sheet the fellow behind me tells me he has been sent by his boss, an Assemblyperson, for the same thing. "What’s the problem with water transit, do you know?" he asks me. I somewhat frantically tell him nothing at all is wrong with water transit, urge him to ask his boss to vote for the bill.

I return to the Gate. I report my precocious lobbying efforts while at the Clerk’s office. Marina and the other hardened veterans could care less. Many more lobbyists have joined forces with us now. These new recruits aren’t at all interested in water transit but, since their items are contained in the same bill as ours, we’re all joined at the hip.

At this very moment, the all-powerful John Burton comes striding through the Gate. Without a seeming care in the world, bedecked in a shocking pink shirt and floral tie, this is a man that very much wants you to know that he could give a shit. He’s a proud, and very effective, rascal. "In politics and in trade, bruisers and pirates are of better promise than talkers and clerks", said Emerson and John Burton is living proof. Knowing that he supports water transit – it’s his juice bill, after all – I summon the courage, like something out of Oliver Twist, to pipe up, "Mr. Burton, I’m here to support ferries for San Francisco!" He doesn’t even break stride or so much as glance in my direction. "Good for you. Hope it passes". He’s gone.

There is life after death for SB 1662. It has been called back; a recount is underway. We watch red lights blink off and green lights take their place. We need 67 to win. To our exhilaration we’ve picked up 7 votes to get all the way up to 66. We stay there for what seems like forever. Then – 67! We’ve won!

The supremely effective lobbyist Snodgrass is still circling names on her tally sheet and writing out business cards and has to be told we’ve already won. General rejoicing. I feel like I’ve come back from the dead. Water transit for the Bay Area actually did.

We move en masse to the Senate side where the bill must now be considered. It is 11:30 and I learn that by law the Senate may only consider bills until the stroke of midnight. Some bills – perhaps many – are sure to not make the deadline. The realization terrifies me, but I am relieved to learn from a lobbyist wedged next to me that SB 1662 has been designated an "urgency" bill, meaning it, unlike the others, may be considered after midnight. The juice is flowing.

Senator Burton is the President of the Senate, and, like the Speaker of the Assembly, often finds it convenient to let others chair the session while be operates from the Senate floor. He is there now, and is calling up SB 1662. "The bill isn’t physically here, Senator", says the presiding officer. "Don’t know why not, I brought it over myself", cracks Burton. The Senators guffaw.

It is now 5 minutes to midnight. A bill is taken up that would provide land for a school in Tustin, a poor community down South. The democratic Senator from Tustin gives a passionate, but wisely brief, summary. The Republican Senator representing an adjoining, wealthier district rises in opposition. He talks in theatrically slow fashion, intentionally running out the clock so as to thwart the Senator (and school kids) from Tustin.

The Clerk announces the stroke of midnight. Silence falls in the chamber. The Senator from Tustin is white with rage, fulminating that his Republican opponent has done a most dastardly deed. The Republican is nonplussed. Senator Burton makes some philosophical remarks. The Tustin Senator, in tears now, acknowledges his defeat with a few remarks which, given the situation, I found incredibly graceful and moving.

Not so the jaded lobbyists all around me. "Trial lawyer theatrics", snorts one, speaking of the Tustin Senator’s tears.

SB 1662, being an urgency bill, is one of only two left that can still be considered. With no time pressure any longer, the Senators now stretch out their remarks, enjoying hearing themselves, and each other, presumably, talk.

SB 1662 is no slam-dunk in the Senate, either. Here, too, it fails to muster the needed votes the first time out and a reprise of wild group card writing is required. It’s not nearly so frantic this time however, and SB 1662 passes easily when brought up a second time.

I am absolutely wired the entire drive back to the Bay Area, yet when Marina drops me off at my home in Alameda, I fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.