The Vice Presidential Diary of Joseph R. Biden
What a treat! Just as I returned to the White House from my vacation, I ran into my dear friend Hillary Clinton. At first I wasn’t sure why she was emerging from my office with a tape measure. Not to mention that book of fabric samples. Hillary is the least political person I know, so I’m sure she has no idea that there are news stories saying that she’s planning to take my job and that Obama is going to give me hers. Even the president told me those rumors were “partially or completely unfounded as far as I know,” so that ought to settle that!
Finally after talking it over with Jill, my staff, the folks in the situation room, and that waitress at Denny’s, it became really obvious what was going on. Hillary’s planning to give me a large gift and wants to make sure it fits in my office! I’m glad I didn’t say anything, so as not to spoil her surprise.
I guess Hillary thought I was really busy because even as I called out to her she continued walking away.
Ever since the “incident,” I’ve resisted the urge to pat Hillary on the back, give her a bear hug, or touch her in any way. Instead I complimented her on her choice of pantsuit: Charcoal gray is definitely her color.
“Hillary,” I said when I caught up with her, “that wedding was just lovely. Your daughter Cindy was truly a vision!”
“Joe, I’m really going to miss you,” Hillary responded.
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” I told her. “I just came back!” She must have gotten something mixed up. But she just cackled and walked off. That zany madcap! God love her!
Had my weekly lunch with the “O” man. He really missed seeing me last week when I was out of town. Michelle says the president sometimes gets so excited after our weekly lunches that it takes him all seven days to recover.
The O man was sitting with his regular “posse.” (He loves it when I use that term.) Rahm, Carville, and Bill Clinton must have been awfully busy not to hear me walk into the Oval. I was so happy to see them all that I only picked up bits and pieces of their conversation. A voice on speakerphone was saying something about “the good old days,” “coordinating the message” and “blame Bush” while Bill and Carville nodded.
“Hey, guys, is that Stephanopoulos on the line?” I asked as I put my tray down. “George, buddy, how ya doing?”
The next thing I heard was a dial tone. Those infernal White House phones. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve called the president only to have the same thing happen.
Clinton, Carville and the O man were so glad I was back that words failed them.
“Sorry I’m late, boss,” I said. To make up for my tardiness, I went with my fail-safe mood lightener. “I must say you are looking especially clean today.”
Bill turned red and shook his head. He was probably wishing he’d thought of that one!