By TOM KNOTT

WASHINGTON, D.C., July 20 — I was coming out of the Whole Foods grocery store on Wisconsin Avenue this morning, in the process of consuming a Danish pastry with cherries, when this middle-aged woman with a faraway gaze asked if she could solicit my support in defeating President Bush.

I was hard at work on the Danish pastry with cherries, which, I guess, was a low priority compared to the globe-changing assignment of defeating President Bush in November.

She was one of those Stepford Wives-like souls who dominates my stretch of the asphalt in the city.

There was a disconnect about this woman, a pleasantness that was disingenuous. Another thing: Why was she dragging Whole Foods into the presidential election? Shouldn’t there be political safe zones in the city? If so, I would start with Whole Foods.

Besides, I just wanted to be free of interruptions as I waged a primitive battle against the Danish pastry with cherries. We could talk politics the other 23 hours and 55 minutes in the day. But not now. Not while I was engaged in this agreeable activity.

Alas, you could sense the woman was on an important mission. She was persistent and needed my help. Would I help in this desperate fight to remove President Bush from the White House?

It is impolite to chew and talk at the same time, so I raised my hand, as if to say, “Give me a second, and then I will join in your most important cause.”

I finished chewing, turned to the woman and said, “Uh, lady, I am not voting for Kerry in November. There is no chance of that happening. Zero. Nada. Forget about it. George Bush already has my vote.”

The poor woman appeared stunned, as if she had uncovered an infiltrator in her midst and wanted to alert the proper authorities. She could work this entrance all day and not come across another Bush voter, or at least a person who would admit to being one.

“I am sorry you feel that way,” the woman said, not really meaning it, just fumbling to say something to someone who no longer was useful.

If there was anything to be sorry about, it was the sorry spectacle of a person accosting patrons as they exited from a grocery store.

You felt like saying, “Get a life, lady. Do something productive. The Kerry political machine does not need you to intrude on potential voters while they try to eat a Danish pastry with cherries.”

You did not say this, of course. It would have been rude, although no more rude than she was.

She told me to be careful around a vehicle that was exiting from the Whole Foods basement garage.

“Even though I don’t like your politics, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” she said.

I wanted to respond with a pointed retort but didn’t.

Instead, I returned to the solitary pleasure of the Danish pastry with cherries, aware that the Danes are with the “Coalition of the Willing.”