Close encounter of the fratty kind

So I was running last night, headphones on, and a subaru wagon rolls up next to me with three or four dude-bros in it. They didn't seem drunk (it was maybe 7:30), but they were certainly yelling gleefully and having a merry old time. The dude sitting shotty sees me and yells out the window, "YEAH! Running for OBAMA!" Not knowing what else to do, I grinned at them and pumped my fist in the air in time with my stride. They all cheered and drove off. Ahh, Portland: Where even the dude-bros lean left.