I am not one to usually remember my dreams vividly, but this one………..oh geez, this one.
Michelle Obama and I were becoming budding new besties. She liked me. Really, really liked me. She thought I was hilarious. Mallory and Sasha were school friends, and Mal was always very polite to the Obamas whenever she was invited to the White House for after-school hanging out. I’d chat with her when I would pick Mal up, and during one of those conversations Michelle invited me to accompany her and Barack to the upcoming school play. The night of the event, we met at the school and Michelle and I both needed to use the bathroom before things got underway. The bathroom had a long line and as we stood in it chatting I felt the beginnings of The Nervous Poop. This was due to the realization that I was with the POTUS and the FLOTUS.
I did not want the FLOTUS to hear me doing that, and so I made the excuse that we’d miss the start of the play if we both waited and that I would find another bathroom. I went on the hunt. Down a maze of hallways, peering into doorways, looking through windows. Finally I found a tiny door under the stairs and there was a bathroom, gnome-sized but functional. I bent down and crawled through the opening, hurried up and did my business and then went back to the auditorium.
By then the play had already started. I quickly and quietly walked down to the first row and there were no more empty seats. No seat saved for Polite Mallory’s Funny Mother and New Best Friend Of Michelle’s. In fact, her and Barack never even made eye contact with me and as the Secret Service was politely escorting me out of there I woke from my dream.
Whenever The Queen Mum references somebody she thinks is a primo bullshitter, she says, “That guy could fall in a pile of crap and come out smelling like a rose.”
I have no such luck. I end up just smelling like crap.
