But that’s all above my pay grade. I’m just the guy getting hand jobs in exchange for double cheeseburgers and access to Turner Classic Movies.
Eventually, the conversation turned to what should be done to me.
I suggested they let me go home. My kids were probably adults by that point. Or at least that’s how long it felt.
I had hoped to return, maybe some great Homeric return home or something like that. But he didn’t want to give me up.
I will say this. Neither of us liked the hand jobs. I didn’t like getting them and I am hoping that he didn’t like giving them. That his glee during the sessions was just for show or something like that.
But it seems, my journey home was going to be delayed until I was no longer useful.
There was a problem though. The press.
Neither the President nor his staff wanted anyone seeing me leave the White House with the President or anyone else on the staff. No one knew who I was or anything like that. They felt having a random person walk out of the White House would cause too many questions.
And the press were watching like hawks because apparently, they didn’t know if the President was going to leave on his own accord.
I was sitting in the Oval Office while they discussed it.
There were mentions about the Capitol and certification. I didn’t pay much attention mostly because it’s not like I could do anything besides watch movies.
But they planned a distraction.
The President would give a speech.
Something would rile up the crowd. They would riot and then I would be slipped out of the White House.
And that is how I ended up in Florida living at a country club.