OMG! Did you hear? Potomac/Beltway VIPs are texting like crazy. Some are even phoning. This is a scoop of all scoops, hot and heavy with anger, as well as sex.
Here’s what happened: Michelle Obama went berserk last Tuesday (August 19th) after the New York Times had a page one (yep, page one!), above the fold (yep, above the fold!) article labeling her hubby an “aloof” guy who is driving his own party berserk with his failure to kick butt and a maddening “Let Them Work It Out” mantra.
Those furious with the Prez include Senator Harry Reid, who has been festering for quite some time about Obama’s political passivity. Things boiled over when Reid was at the White House with Mitch McConnell, and complained to POTUS that Republicans were spitefully blocking the confirmation of dozens of the Prez’s ambassadorial nominees. Expecting that the Prez would light an urgent fire under the Republic leader, what he got instead was: “you guys work it out.” Reid exited, sizzling.
In an attempt to protect the guy she has long supported, Senator Claire McCaskill explained that POTUS, even as a senator, was not a schmoozer. To paraphrase: He equates schmoozing with “eating his spinach.” And Senator Dick Durban, a true gentleman as well as a warm and friendly one, added that our Prez will never be a “creature of Washington” like Clinton. (More about our former POTUS soon.) But the explanations fell flatter than flat. Most, including Senator Joe Manchin, remain “dismayed” by Obama’s “chilling lack of warmth.”
Obama tried to hide this article from Michelle, knowing it would freak her out. So he tucked the morning Times down in the corner where the First Dog, Sunny, puts paper to good use. But Michelle, knowing Obama’s tricks, picked it up just in time and began reading before Sunny was able to protect our Prez from the ensuing, wifely wrath.
How does WHITE HOUSE WHISPERS know about the hot and heavy aftermath of the First Lady’s successful page one pull out? Well, OK, I’ll reveal, put keep it hush hush, please.
You see, the White House bunch is a surprisingly trusting group, and without proper vetting, they hired a painter who is really a sleeper Tea Party plant. When something gossip-worthy is going on the painter points to a wall that needs work. I am no Tea Partier, but the guy who paints is engaged to my third cousin once removed. She’s always had a rather loose tongue, and recently outed her fiancé after way too many Chardonnays at a backyard BBQ in Mclean.
Knowing something was up, The Plant (as he is referred to in Tea Party circles), who had been painting the wall outside of the First Couple’s kitchen, tiptoed behind Obama as he ran toward the Lincoln Bedroom in an attempt to lock himself inside. As he tiptoed, he heard the Prez muttering repeatedly to himself: “Why didn’t I listen to her? I should have listened.”
You see, the Plant, who adored painting and snooping in the private quarters of our First Couple, saw that for months Michelle had been hiding little notes in her hubby’s underwear and sock drawers, always with three word commands:
“Obama, Be Friendly!”
“Obama, Be Warm!”
“Obama, Reach Out!”
“Obama, Engage NOW!
“Obama, Grow Up!”
Unfortunately, Obama forgot that he had lent the Lincoln Bedroom to Hillary and Bill (after accepting Hillary’s apology for calling him a wimp. Well, you know that story.) But he had not told Michelle about their guests, as she’s still pretty heavily pissed at Hillary. Michelle, who (bless her!) takes her work outs very seriously, sprinted fast and angrily to catch up with hubby as he ran toward the historic Bedroom. As she sprinted, she wailed and warned, “You’ll be history today, if you lock yourself in there!”
Well, the Prez got to the door seconds before she did (and forgetting that it was in use) could not understand why the door was locked. His key was turning in the lock, just as Michelle caught up with him. Obama opened the door, with Michelle breathing down his neck, screeching “Why didn’t you listen to me!”
As Obama opened the door with Michelle attached to him, lo and behold, there were Hillary and Bill hot and heavy in the historic Bedroom…..Yep….Being back in the White House, with sure plans to return, had put them in the mood.
Obama was so shocked at what he saw that he stopped short. Michelle crashed into him — hard, and, trying to keep his balance, the Prez stumbled into a near somersault. He knocked his Presidential head on the night table, spilling Bill’s large candy dish filled with Viagra (just as he was about to help himself to another). A shower of pills covered Hill and Bill.
Then the tottering night table fell over directly onto Michelle’s beautifully manicured coral big right toenail. The nail split. Michelle cried out in pain, but managed to kick the table off with her other foot, screaming: “If one more person calls you ‘aloof’, or ‘in your own head,’ I will release that video we made in this very bedroom. You know the one I mean!”
“Plus,” she warned, “I will make it public that you like me to call you Barry, especially you know when.”
The Plant continued to quietly paint the wall adjoining the bedroom, and saw Four Secret service agents (who had done their upmost to be discreet and keep their distance) leap into action. Galloping toward the First Foursome, they threw a duvet over the former First Couple, and ushered the present First Couple OUT.
The President walked; Michelle hopped on one foot as she yelled, “Aloof is Bad, Bad, Bad. I’m calling Oprah for an Intervention. I mean it this time, Barry!”
Barack tried to take her arm, but was unsuccessful. She continued to scream that Oprah, not to mention Valerie Jarrett, would be just as furious as she was.
(Later in the Secret Service break room, the guys could be heard belting out, “I found my blue pill / on…Hillary and Bill” (to the tune of Fats Domino’s “Blueberry Hill”). Then somebody sang: “Mr. Prez is Bad, Bad, Bad, his Lady Madder than Mad…”)
Meanwhile, Michelle locked their bedroom door, pointing to the living room couch for Bad Barry/Barack. As an aid brought her ice for her badly swollen toe (now the whole thing was coral), the first Hubby bolted to the door, but not in time. It was slammed in his face, hard!
In the wee hours of the morning, Michelle could be heard waking up Jarrett to remind her that she was brought from Chicago to get Barack out of his head, not to coddle him. Michelle repeatedly called Oprah’s private mobile number. When Big O did not pick up, Michelle barked out a voice mail that O was needed pronto and to call back ASAP.
Then she yelled (again and again) to no one in particular, “Aloof, my entire swollen coral toe.” Throughout her tirade, she ignored hubby’s shouting inquiry: “Honey, do you want more ice?”
Finally, as the Secret Service quietly whistled their catchy new “blue pill” ditty, the Prez screamed through the door: “Come on, Michelle, talk to me.”
And she did, through the door. Still screaming, but more softly, Michelle told her husband what really was bothering her: “Hillary was right about Isis, Barack. That’s why I’m mad at both of you, and trust me, schmoozing is part of leadership and part of aggression. I love your aggression, Barack. Think Lincoln Bedroom.”
“OK, OK. You win, Michelle! No need for Oprah, and keep Valerie out of it. You’re right. Aloof is bad! Engagement is good! This situation requires Balls. I promise I’ll use them.”
All became suddenly quiet, as the door opened.
31 August 2014
SaraKay Smullens (www.sarakaysmullens.com) is a Philadelphia psychotherapist, activist and best-selling author of Whoever Said Life Is Fair?: A Guide to Growing Through Life’s Injustices and Setting Yourself Free: Breaking the Cycle of Emotional Abuse in Family, Friendships, Work, and Love. Thought of as serious, SaraKay is hard at work on her book on BurnOut and SelfCare, to be published by NASW Press in 2015. Once, however, when she wore a scopolamine patch to combat severe sea-sickness, she got on a dining table in an outdoor Caribbean restaurant, told jokes, and sang “True Love.” She remembers none of it. Due to her contacts, she may be reporting further.