Liveblogging the Republican Governor’s Primary

11:09 pm I finished the night off at Ray J’s restaurant in Woodbury, where, as I entered, Tim Pawlenty was busily signing autographs amid a room of well-dressed and loudly chattering people. By the time I’d arrived, the AP and MPR had already called the race in Pawlenty’s favor so I’d missed his speech; he didn’t emerge from the autograph scrum until about ten minutes before he left. A press release was thrust into my hands by a campaign worker, which contained the same kind of words he was telling a pair of student journalists: he’s going to pit his “agenda of government reform and accountability against Mike Hatch’s desire to bring back the failed tax and spend policies of years past,” the release said.

I asked his reaction to Sue Jeffers’ opinion that he wasn’t staying true to conservative values; his answer: “There are many people in Minnesota who think I’m too conservative.” He thanked Sue for “bringing these issues”–presumably the Twins stadium, fees and taxes I’d mentioned–to his attention. Before he turned to leave, I put up my camera to take a snapshot. He suggested I get in the shot and, handing the camera to an aide, we ended up, naturally, framed in front of a red Pawlenty banner.

9:13 pm Sue Jeffers arrived at Stub & Herbs about 30 minutes ago, and now as results are coming in she’s sitting with a Coke and relaxing, satisfied at the job she’s done. She thinks the same issues everyone else has been citing here tonight–taxes and fees and stadiums–will earn her plenty of votes. She faults Tim Pawlenty for refusing to debate her.

“He should be able to stand up and defend that record,” she says. “It’s bad when your sitting governor won’t debate a political neophyte.” Turning to Laura, a young supporter who just called Pawlenty a “weenie,” she asks, “Is that the right word?”That neophyte thing seems to be the draw for the crowd–now 30 or so–gathered here. Enge, who wears a leather biker vest over a black t-shirt with Michael Savage’s mantra “Liberalism is a mental disorder,” says, “Sue’s never been a politician. That’s what I like about her. Most of us just bitch. She’s doing something.” (Enge has driven his truck, a flag-covered pickup, in several of Jeffers’ parades.)

Even Jeffers admits she didn’t really plan on this path. “Two years ago I had a pretty nice life,” says Sue Jeffers. “I ran a business, I played golf and went to basketball games. You’ve got to be really frustrated to throw that away” and go up against established politicians and “the political machine.”

Final question: what percentage of the vote would make her satisfied?

“51 percent.” She pauses, rethinking: “Yeah, 51 percent.”

8:16 pm Sue Jeffers is scheduled to arrive at Stub & Herbs right about now. The pool room of the bar, lined with blue-and-white Jeffers signs, “Blinded by the Light