DC Life: The Pay Attention to Me Column

Trip Start Apr 01, 1979
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Flag of United States  , District of Columbia,
Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Yes, I've done the dirty deed. I've put myself out there, on the block, and maybe now I've crossed that line in the sand. I've gone over to the dark side of the racy political scene in Washington, and used my best asset as my weapon in a crusade for my own personal advancement. That's right fair reader, I've used my sculpted body in pursuit of the ultimate dream. And in doing so perhaps I've sacrificed a part of me that was never too strong, my pride. Okay, so let me get into the gory details for you, and please don't think less of me for doing so, nor less of that fair beauty who I took into my bed.

It was one bright and cool day in Washington, when I made my weekly trip up to the Hill. I met individually with one person, a Senator, as I always do. Yet something was different on this day. There was a noticeable tension in the air, a strong sense of urging rippling between us, and binding us together in the cosmic world of tantalizing togetherness. It was a primal feeling, that welled up as we spoke, and not surprisingly, I made a bold move, as I always do, treacherous as that might seem. My move was to arrange another meeting, outside of the peering eyes of the Capitol, perhaps on a quiet street in a small café, but could such anonymity ever follow this media darling. Unfortunately, the answer might in the long run be no, but on this night, we found our sanctuary, our place above the muck raking masses, above the hateful, jealous eyes of the many peers which share our streets, subways, and parks. They crane their necks to watch us pass, but all they see is false, fictitious versions of a reality, which they themselves create. I have something special, a certain ability to turn heads and gain what I want, while my beauty has intelligence, fame and status well above the peons who dare to look up into that brightness. They burn their eyes, but never see how special they can never aspire to be.

So anyway, yes it quickly became carnal, an animalistic longing. It became a surging desire attached to a quiet need. And of course, our beings intertwined in wonderful and inspired ways. We formed a utopia, and in the end I gained what I wanted. I gained a concession for my own agenda, far tucked beneath my longings, but ever present, and I knew just when to make it known, when to add in my wishes. Yes, in the end I sold my body for my cause, but I don't feel poorly for it. This land of DC, this supposed beacon of hope in this world of sin, is no more than a heap of dung itself. Its full of crap upon crap, with everyone contributing their part to the mess. I merely stirred the pot, taking care not to spill the contents on to my shoes.

So who is my flower? Who is my one and only, my partner in this wicked dance? You know this person, as the face is on the news more often than not. You know the committee upon which this "tulip" serves. You know of the "causes" and means upon which this person strives for a better union. From a "cardinal" state in our confederacy, you know that the shoe should only be put on the other foot. Can you guess? Do you have the morals, the values, the abilities, the desire to know for whom my "candle" was lit? Look to the "Middle East", and not that one in Asia, and you will have the answers you seek.

P.S. My lady at home need not know, and don't think less of me for my concealment, for what great lie does such gaiety really deserve to cover.
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