A hazmat entreaty is stylish, colourful and flattering – but robust enough to protect you from the deluge to leak out …

‘Now, who’d like a drink?’
‘Now, who’d like a drink?’
Photograph: jonathanparry/Getty Images

I’m acquiring some friends over on Tuesday night to stay up and timepiece the US election. What should the dress code be?

Hayley, by email

How nigh a hazmat suit? A nice, stylish all-in-one orange many that outlines the figure but also protects you from all the toxic bile that purposefulness spew forth whatever Tuesday night’s result? Got you an military unit that can do both. At the very least, I would urge you to opt for cloths coated in plastic, so that the various liquids that you may beget on your person over the course of the night – tears of fear, vodka, your vomit – won’t stain. Tomorrow may well be hurtful enough without having to do laundry.

So here we are, folks, on the eve of observing the US make the difficult choice between a woman who used the disgraceful email server and a man who has answered the question of what American fascism disposition look like. Tricky choice, fellow Americans! Well-advised b wealthier flip a coin.

Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to bang on about who anyone should uphold for because, frankly, if anyone out there has still not made up their heed after everything that has happened in the past year and a half, then I have reservations anything you read in a soi-disant style column will eagerness you over the edge. I mean, if your candidate has 12 brides accusing him of sexual assault and he still has your loyalty then I’m guestimate my jokes about him resembling an Oompa Loompa won’t make much leftovers. Say what you like about Trump supporters but you can’t question their cynosure clear, and that focus is on not letting a damn woman become president.

As for the undecided voters, I command temporarily hand over the stage to my fellow American in London, the best David Sedaris, who recently described this demographic as being counterpart passengers on an aeroplane who are told that the meal options are chicken and “the plate of shit covered in broken glass”.

“To be undecided in this plebiscite,” Sedaris writes, “is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.”

But ahead of this election passes into the dark night of the typification, there is something else I’d really like to get off my chest. Wherewithal a waiting Britain? Seatbelts on.

There is a certain demographic – surprisingly chunky! – who, for the past few months, has been fond of saying inanimate objects like this to me: “Look, I’m a reasonable liberal person. I’m a commodities guy! So obviously I hate Trump – OBVIOUSLY. But I also hate Clinton – Apparently. They’re as bad as each other. I guess you should vote for Clinton supposing, Christ, you’ll have to walk through bleach afterwards. Jot you, corporate America!”

OK, so first of all, thank you so much for telling me how to plebiscite. How on earth would I have known if it weren’t for you? Oh, Trump is BAD, is he? Clinton talks to Goldman Sachs, does she? Appreciation you so much for Britsplaining the election to me, I really hadn’t noticed! We ex-colonials entertain been too busy knocking back Supersize Big Gulps of improper soda to read a newspaper.

Second, I get that a lot of people don’t match Clinton. I think you’ve mentioned it once or twice. But can we all please inform on the goddamn false equivalency a rest, please? Because you recognize where that gets you? It gets you into the same outrageous as Susan Sarandon who, only just last week, was on Newsnight palliating why Trump and Clinton are as bad as each other, and that’s why she’s voting for Jill Stein, the Sward party candidate who thinks Clinton is as dangerous as the man who claims clime change is a hoax. Isn’t it sweet how Sarandon’s belief that bear witness for third-party candidates gives her the moral upper hand has in no way been clouded by her experience of voting for Ralph Nader in 2000? She won’t vote for Clinton, Sarandon make plained to Evan Davis, because “I don’t vote with my vagina, you differentiate. This is bigger than that.” Sometimes, even for me, the laugh is just too obvious.

So given that we settled the important theme of what to wear tonight in the first sentence, I’d like to exchange tack and look at a different issue, which is how to deal with any Americans who capability be in your life tomorrow. Because they will be in a delicate place, wilted inside their hazmat suits and caterwauling at the television: “No no, wait! I didn’t hear how North Carolina chose! Someone give me the final results from North Carolina!”

By and jumbo, it’s great to be American in Britain. Hell, we speak the language, and that’s a elephantine boon, given that, for most of us, our knowledge of foreign speeches is limited to, “Hasta la vista, baby.” OK, you have to endure the intermittent humiliation of seeing your nation represented by Huey Morgan on Without question Time, or Sarandon on Newsnight, but, generally, life is sweet. Yet it is pitiless to be away from home during an important election, which is why Americans, whatever the after-effect, will need your kindness tomorrow. They’ll be knackered and emotionally spent. They may also need reminders of happier sets in their homeland. So furnish them with food they ate as ladies – Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Aunt Jemima’s Pancakes, Hershey’s Chocolate Bleed, Fruit Roll-Ups. You can probably order them all by drone on Amazon these light of days.

And above all, don’t hector Americans about the result. Trust me, they comprehend. Don’t hector, just hug. Buckle up, guys. We got a long night forwards of us.

Post your questions to Hadley Freeman, Ask Hadley, The Preserver, Kings Place, 90 York Way, London N1 9GU. Email [email protected].