Five minutes after
Potus strode out preceded and followed by Secret Service, the meeting room was
completely empty.
A voice on the speakerphone
shrilly piped up, “Hello, I wasn’t clear on what was said? Is it my turn to begin my agenda items?”
Another voice on
the line said, “Go ahead madam Secretary of State.”
“Thank you.”
Meanwhile, outside
in the hallway, CoS tried desperately to catch up to the back of Potus’
security detail. He tried to keep up
with the brisk pace while juggling his mug, briefcase and several notebooks in
his hands.
Walking in his
characteristic quick strides, Potus turned to Johnson and said, “Johnson. Let me ask you a personal question.”
“Yes Sir.”
“As head of presidential
security detail, you’ve seen a lot of activity and a lot of humanity I imagine.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Does it ever
happen that you can look at people and try to guess what they’re about?”
“About Sir?” He pressed his finger to earpiece and then
spoke into his wrist. “Four seven twenty
, Roger.”
“Roger?”
“Sorry, Sir,
nothing. You said, figuring out what
people are about? I don’t follow.”
“Yes, well, for
example, and I’m going to get personal, it’s OK?”
“Certainly Sir.”
“Well, it’s just
this CoS fellow, he’s a bit you know, well, how do we say. He’s got a strange vibe about something. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“I don’t understand.” Into his wrist again, “Thirty-one four,
please take over. Potato in the west
oven, carrying over in a few minutes.”
“You know, he’s a
bit light. Aloof. A bit full of himself in the pants. Wears a dress. Is a fruit.”
Johnson looked
closely at Potus through his dark glasses.
“You mean like gay?”
“Shhh. Not so loudly.” Johnson nodded. “I’m just saying, he’s so fancy with his talk
and his walk and clothes... You know?”
“Sir, I come from
the Midwest. I think everyone in DC is
gay.”
“Roger that!”
Potus laughed and clapped Johnson on the shoulder as they turned left at a
corner. “What’s all that ‘potato’
gobbledegook on the radio?”
“Sir, that’s
classified.”
CoS finally caught
up to Potus and Johnson. “Sir, Sir, um,
I’d like to assure you that I am not gay...”
“Shhh!” Johnson
and Potus shushed him at the same time.
CoS lowered his
voice. “Sir, you left before we took
care of some more important details. I
highly suggest we schedule a follow up meeting to go over the details that were
abandoned. I’ve made a list that we can
reference for the topics.”
“CoS,” Potus
said. “Do you think we’ll have ham or
turkey?”
“Sir?”
“For lunch?”
“Um. I, well, I don’t know.”
Johnson spoke up, “Sir,
I believe the chef is preparing a clam chowder in sourdough with tuna salad sandwiches
on the side.”
“Oh, that’s really
good.” Potus rubbed his hands together
as they turned another corner and passed a security desk in the hallway. “How do you know that?”
“I have to taste
everything you eat to make sure it’s safe.”
“Wow. Is that true?”
“No, Sir, it’s
not.”
“Hmmmm. Good one Johnson!”
They waited at a
door before it was opened and went in to eat lunch.
No comments:
Post a Comment