Monday, July 27, 2009
St. Helena Has A Mall
"I'm goin' to th' Men's Room. Wanna get a picture with me?"
Retirement for ex-dictators and sociopathic politicians can be hard, but -- assuming its author isn't just having a bit of fun -- this is amazing enough that I'm going to reproduce it in full rather than simply link to it:
Every weekday at noon inside a North Dallas shopping mall, the 43rd president of the United States of America sits down at his usual table in the food court and settles in for lunch with a jumbo Mello Yello, two plates of magic fries and a grande chimichanga. “When he first starting showin’ up at the mall, people would always come over and ask for his autograph or whatever,” said Daryl Vanderveen, a 19-year-old cashier at Sbarro Pizza. “But now he’s here so much that nobody even looks up from their lunch.”
Sources interviewed for this article said that Mr. Bush spends at least eight hours of each day at the Preston Hollow Shopping Center, a popular retail destination near his home in suburban Dallas. “Other than that chimichanga lunch he doesn’t really have a set routine,” said one source. “Sometimes he’ll hang around Lenscrafters trying on glasses or head over to Abercrombie & Fitch and watch the girls fold pants. Last week I saw him inside Pottery Barn sleeping in a leather recliner.”
Hey! Them Girls Are Foldin' PANTS!!
But some mall employees are beginning to complain about the former president. “The other day I was taking a smoke break near the fountain and he just kept asking me stupid stuff like, ‘guess how fast I could get a hot dog in the White House,’” said Amber Kaul, who works part-time at the T-Mobile kiosk. “So finally I’m like ‘I dunno, ten minutes?’ And he’s all like ‘more like two minutes’ and then snaps his fingers and gives me this cocky look like I’m supposed to care.” Donna Simpson, a barista at the mall Starbucks, said the former president is often a distraction from her work. “He sits down over there with his laptop and supposedly starts working on his book,” said Ms. Simpson. “But after about five minutes he comes over, takes a seat at the counter and starts telling how there’s milk duds on Air Force One or Dick Cheney has a glass eye. I’m like ‘dude, there’s about fifty people in line right now, go write your book’.”
Nestor Martinez, a 20-year-old mall security guard, confirmed that on at least two occasions he’s had to speak to the former president about his behavior. “We started getting complaints that he was hanging out in the men’s room asking guys if they wanted to have their picture taken with him,” said Mr. Martinez. “When I told him to stop he said, ‘let’s go sort it out over a game of Donkey Kong.’ So after my shift we went over to the arcade and I beat him in a best of three. Then he got all pissed off and said he’d take up the bathroom thing with my boss.”
Two sources have confirmed that former Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice was recently enlisted by friends and former aides to speak to Mr. Bush about the situation. “She asked him point blank if it was true that he spent an entire day doing nothing but riding up and down the escalators,” said the source. “The president got really angry with Condi and refused to give her a straight answer.”
Hanging out in the men's room ??? Again, unless the author is making it all up from scratch and inventing the names of sources and quotes, this is major-league pathetic. [Insert Bender laugh here: Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee, meatbag.]
But, it just sounds like the kind of behavior Lil' Boots would engage in, doesn't it? Lil' Boots' Presidency was an exercise in showing everyone that he was better! Better'n my Daddee!! It was the sort of bouncin', struttin', push-mah-tiny-mannhood-in-yer-faces, YAHH-Hoo behavior which, in High School, would have ended with Bush having the crap beaten out of him -- before being stuffed, head-first, into a narrow trashcan with a dead cat in the bottom (Bad; very, very bad. I know).
And, wandering a giant strip mall would be the kind of Dantesque twilight life he deserves; to have been the most powerful and corrupt and despised failure of an American President... and then -- hey, presto -- he's out, and nobody notices or cares, except suddenly to realize; hey -- Barack Obama is the President of the United States; that fucking Peevish Dullard is gone. After nearly a decade of fucking the nation, its people, and not having a clue about what he's responsible for (remember the sour, nasty little expression on his face as he sat next to Cheney in January, listening to Obama's first Inaugural Address?) ... we can ignore him now, like we do babbling drunks and telemarketers. We can hang up on that snotty little Richie Rich pimp.
Hoo-Hoo Boy. Napoleon, at least, in exile on the Caribbean island of St. Helena, had things to do.
UPDATE: I'm going to do a bit more research, but I believe this may be creative writing at its most creative. I hope not.
I really liked the bit about his hanging out in the mall men's room -- but actually, that part gives it away: If Bush were in a public restroom, his Secret Service detail would take up every other stall and urinal.
UPDATE II: Ah -- crap and snark it all is, and too bad. Well, someone should call up that Punk Bantam Rooster and tell him to get his skinny butt down to that Preston Hollow Mall and make it true. Pronto.