|
|
My cousin (who I'll refer to as "X") is one of the eight White House press secretaries, of which Ari Fleischer is the head. Being in this rather high-level position (Mister X confers with the president on a regular basis, sometimes travels with him on Air Force One, etc.) he was able to get an extensive tour of the White House for his father, my uncle. My uncle being a staunch conservative, he was rather tickled by this, especially the prospect of meeting Bush.
As my uncle and cousin were walking out of the oval office, a dog rushed past them, and a few seconds later, a man running after the dog. The man was sort of stooping over, grasping out for the dog, despite the fact that the dog was a good four feet out of his reach. This man careened into my uncle as he passed, almost knocking my uncle over. He gave up his chase about ten feet past and corrected his posture, muttering weakly to himself. The dog continued on down a hallway and turned out of sight.
My cousin walked up to the man.
"Having trouble with the dog again, Mr. President?"
He turned around, sporting an absent-minded grin.
"Yeah, X. Let the Secret Service get the dang thing."
Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you the President of the United States.
Long Live the King. |
|
|