Potus, 2/14 pre-meeting

                Meanwhile, somewhere upstairs, Potus adjusted his tie and prepared to go to his first cabinet meeting.  Mrs. Potus came by the mirror and made eye contact.

                “Why hello Mr. President,” she cooed.

                “Hello, First Lady,” he answered flippantly adjusting his tie.

                “Are you married you sexy fox?”  They occasionally liked to role-play as strangers.  “I love a man with power.”

                “Yes, I am, dear, I’m sorry.  My wife is a fine woman indeed!”

                “Oh, well, what does she have that I don’t?  Besides you could just leave her and go with me,” she pouted.

                He smiled and grabbed her hips, still making eye contact in the mirror.  “Ah forget it, she’ll never find out,” he said and pulled her closer to him as she giggled.  “Do you think Lincoln would have approved of us here?  Eh, you temptress?  Would you like me to wear a top hat?”  He made a hat doffing gesture as he bent the First Lady back, holding her by the waist and balancing her on his thigh.  Just then, Johnson head of POTUS detail walked in.

                “Oh, sorry Sir.  Ma’am...” he said.

                Mr. and Mrs. Potus separated, stood apart and adjusted their clothes into a more professional straightness.

                Johnson cleared his throat and said, “Sir, whenever you are ready...”

                “Yes, yes,” said Potus and he pecked Mrs. Potus on the cheek chastely.  “See you at lunch,” and then in a stage whisper added, “First Lady.”

                The First Lady blushed and covered her mouth while she smiled.

                “Johnson, let’s go,” Potus said as he walked out of the room.

                “Yes Sir,” Johnson said and followed.

                As they were walking down the hallway, Potus turned conspiratorially to Johnson.  “Thank you for taking care of the roses for me,” he said.

                “No problem Sir, that’s what we do.”

                “I really appreciate it.  February is always a hard time for me; I hate the whole Valentine’s Day commercialism.  Who even invented roses for Valentine’s Day?  It makes no sense!”

                “I agree,” Johnson said distractedly.  He lifted his cuff to his hand and said, “Seven ninety eight, Turkey in the North Fridge.”

                “What’s all that nonsense you keep jabbering?”

                “That’s classified,” Johnson said.

                They reached the end of the hallway next to an elevator where two guards stood.  Potus saluted, and they responded.  It was always a bit crowded with the six or eight people waiting for the elevator.  Potus rocked on his heels and balls of his feet, swinging his arms a bit.  He started whistling a little tune as he usually did when he was a bit nervous.

                “Heyo boy, watch out now, they’ll chew you up,” he muttered.

                “I’m sorry?” Johnson turned and asked.

                “Ah, nothing.  It’s just a song.”

                Johnson tilted his head and put his hand to his right ear.

                “Come again?”

                “Just a song.  I think it’s from the eighties.”

                “Two forty nine.  Roger.”

                “Oh, you weren’t talking to me?” Potus asked.

                “Sorry Sir?”

                “Man Eater!  That’s the song!”

                “Yes.  Ok.”

                “Watch boys she’ll chew you up,” Potus sang off-key.

                The other Secret Service agents shuffled their feet and stared at the ground, the walls, and the elevator doors.  There was a mildly uncomfortable pause while Potus hummed under his breath.

One of the guards on the left side of the elevator doors spoke up, “Sir!  I believe that’s Hall and Oates!”

Potus nodded appreciatively and jabbed the guard’s shoulder.  “You’re right!  Daryl Hall and John Oates.  Well done!”

The guard beamed and everyone laughed appreciatively, relieved to remember the song.  They waited a while more for the elevator to arrive.  Finally the door opened and everyone bolted for the entrance, uncomfortably trying to squeeze inside the ancient elevator.

As they descended, Potus hummed under his breath, rocking on his feet.  One of the Secret Service agents on his right half-sung under his breath, “Whoa, whoa here she comes.”

Another Secret Service agent continued, “Watch out boy...”

Johnson turned around from his position in front and made a hacking motion across his neck.  The two agents suddenly went silent.

Potus hummed and could not help himself: “Watch out boy she’ll chew you up!”

Johnson turned forward and stared at the elevator doors.  Potus cleared his throat and tried to calm his nerves.  The doors opened and they contingent of Potus and Secret Service detail filed out into the hallway.