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Dinner With President Obama,How Real Is This?







"Dinner with Obama"



Once upon a time, I was invited to the White House for a private dinner with the President. I am a respected businessman, with a factory that produces memory chips for computers and portable electronics. There was some talk that my industry was being scrutinized by the administration, but I paid it no mind. I live in a free country. There's nothing that the government can do to me if I've broken no laws. My wealth was earned honestly, and an invitation to dinner with an American President is an honor.

I checked my coat, was greeted by the Chief of Staff , and joined the President in a yellow dining room.

We sat across from each other at a table draped in white linen. The Great Seal was embossed on the china. Uniformed staff served our dinner.

The meal was served, and I was startled when my waiter suddenly reached out, plucked a dinner roll off my plate, and began nibbling it as he walked back to the kitchen.

"Sorry about that," said the President. "Andrew is very hungry."

"I don't appreciate..." I began, but as I looked into the calm brown eyes across from me, I felt immediately guilty and petty.. It was just a dinner roll.

"Of course," I concluded, and reached for my glass. Before I could, however, another waiter reached forward, took the glass away and swallowed the wine in a single gulp.

"And his brother Eric is very thirsty." said the President.

I didn't say anything.=2 0The President is testing my compassion, I thought. I will play along. I don't want to seem unkind.

My plate was whisked away before I had tasted a bite.

"Eric's children are also quite hungry."

With a lurch, I crashed to the floor. My chair had been pulled out from under me. I stood, brushing myself off angrily, and watched as it was carried from the room.

"And their grandmother can't stand for long."

I excused myself, smiling outwardly, but inside feeling like a fool.

Obviously I had been invited to the White House to be sport for some game. I reached for my coat, to find that it had been taken. I turned back to the President.

"Their grandfather doesn't like the cold."

I wanted to shout - that was my coat! But again, I looked at the placid smiling face of my host and decided I was being a poor sport. I spread my hands helplessly and chuckled. Then I felt my hip pocket and realized my wallet was gone. I excused myself and walked to a phone on an elegant side table. I learned shortly that my credit cards had been maxed out, my bank accounts emptied, my retirement and equity portfolios had vanished, and my wife had been thrown out of our home. Apparently, the waiters and their families were moving in. The President hadn't moved or spoken as I learned all this, but finally I lowered the phone into its cradle and turned to face him.

"Andrew's whole family has made bad financial decisions. They haven't plan ned for retirement, and they need a house. They recently defaulted on a subprime mortgage . I told them they could have your home. They need it more than you do."

My hands were shaking. I felt faint. I stumbled back to the table and knelt on the floor. The President cheerfully cut his meat, ate his steak and drank his wine.

I lowered my eyes and stared at the small grey circles on the tablecloth that were water drops .

"By the way," He added, "I have just signed an Executive Order nationalizing your factories. I'm firing you as head of your business. I'll be operating the firm now for the benefit of all mankind.

There's a whole bunch of Eric’s and Andrews out there and they can't come to you for jobs groveling like beggars."

I looked up. The President dropped his spoon into the empty ramekin which had been his crème Brule. He drained the last drops of his wine.

As the table was cleared, he lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair. He stared at me. I clung to the edge of the table as if were a ledge and I were a man hanging over an abyss. I thought of the years behind me, of the life I had lived. The life I had earned with a lifetime of work, risk and struggle. Why was I punished? How had I allowed it to be taken? What game had I played and lost? I looked across the table and noticed with some surprise that there was no game board between us.

What had I done wrong?

As if answeri ng the unspoken thought, the President suddenly cocked his head, locked his empty eyes to mine, and bared a million teeth, chuckling wryly as he folded his hands.

"You should have stopped me at the dinner roll," he said.



Wake up,  America !



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47 helpful answers


The lines are drawn in the sand, the American people are alive and awake, well most anyway.
Kick it and call names, Let the Freedom Ring

Then perhaps we should take away Obatty's limos, planes, expense card and let him eat cake....................................hope he chokes on it.

He should have been stopped before he started.

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139 helpful answers

Hurt me once
 
Shame on you!
 
Hurt me twice
 
Shame on me!
 

"GOD BLESS OUR TROOPS"

 

   LadyDarko this is you am I right, trick question who carried the men off the battlefield? To many icons and nanes have gone for trips, and only you know the answer to that question. I pray that it is you, I had sworn to protect always your safety..................................

Tanya {G}

Posted 2009-07-27T03:53:54Z
 
139 helpful answers

Hurt me once
 
Shame on you!
 
Hurt me twice
 
Shame on me!
 

"GOD BLESS OUR TROOPS"

 

   LadyDarko I know that there should be a time difference, so I will wait till this evening to hear from you, or I SHALL asume that trickery has been played on your icon and good name, I truely hope that is NOT the CASE!!!

Tanya {G}

Posted 2009-07-27T20:18:25Z
 
47 helpful answers


The lines are drawn in the sand, the American people are alive and awake, well most anyway.
Kick it and call names, Let the Freedom Ring

It is the medics along with the PAs who go to the men down.  They decide who goes to next station.  The Mash/Depmed.  There they recieve the care they need surgically wise etc etc etc.  It is the way of things to send them back ASAP and not continue to send them back to CONUS.

To get them back onto the front ASAP basically.  

Lady Darko  

Helpful?(1)
Rated as Best Answer
 
47 helpful answers


The lines are drawn in the sand, the American people are alive and awake, well most anyway.
Kick it and call names, Let the Freedom Ring

PA/Medic then Mash/Depmed combined now new names, then back and back til Stateside. 

That is why Medics are lost when they return Stateside, they are as valuable as diamonds in war, their memories are too painful to discuss and PAs are lower ranking than LTs in the Army believe it or not. 

Life is not fair, so there you have it.  Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

 

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