Karla meets Barack Obama yesterday morning. He's at the Dunkin Donuts in Eastern Market, hanging out with DC's boy wonder mayor, Adrian Fenty. She shakes his hand and calls me, reporting that he is "very tall and very handsome." I think, "Well, I'm not tall...."
I met the other presidential nominee three years ago. I was coming in fro a cigarette break, eyes down, and hop into the elevator going up. I pop a breath mint and look up - there's one other passenger and - lo and behold! - it is John MCCain. To my credit, I was clever. I blurted, to both of our surprise: "Shit!"
He chuckled and shook my hand. He is not so tall. We didn't get to talk, for it was a fast elevator, but he said it was pleasure to meet me.
In contrast, I used to see Lynne Cheney a lot near the same elevator. i say "near" rather than "on," because her secret service goons always kicked me off of the elevator so that she could ride undisturbed by dangerous terrorist types like myself. She never said a word, never even looked at me as I relinquished my spot on the lift.
