Unintentional rescue grants me a tour under the White House.

February 6, 2010

I had a strange dream last night:

I was walking through a semi-dingy area of a building, filled with people dressed in rags. There were a great many people there, all gathered and excited to see Barack Obama. He arrived on the scene and everybody went into a frenzy of applause and cheers for some reason. Everything went black. 

When i could see again, i was walking with Obama, drinking a giant 7-11 slurpee. We went into the bathroom to take a whiz and i finished first because i am an over-achiever. A crazed looking man burst forth from the stall with a knife in hand and lunged for the President. I jumped in his way, grabbing his knife but also crashing into Barack, knocking him to the floor while he was peeing. Awkward. The man was arrested (though not by the police, he instead just disappeared) and i was awarded a high honor for protecting the President. He invited me to the White House later that day.

When i arrived, i was rushed to the Oval Office and told to wait for the President. I stood in front of the desk, wondering if there were the hidden parts on it that i saw in “National Treasure 2”. Obama showed up behind me and said i would be given a special tour today, one that nobody has ever been on. At first it weirded me out, but he explained, saying that we were going to the underground section of the White House–the part that was built in the late 1700’s.

We arrived in a stone chamber that served as a library. It was filled with ancient looking books and some of the expensive books i have on my bookshelf. I got excited and told Obama that i had some of the same books and he just chuckled. Paying more attention to this room, it looked like it had been looted over the last century–a lot of books were missing but that didn’t stop me from running from one shelf to another. There were books that had been written during the times of ancient Rome, books on medicine from the 1500’s and all kinds of antique manuscripts.

I asked if i could read one and the President said i could take one home with me. My head almost exploded. I found a 3 volume set about Julius Caesar that i really wanted but i was told i could only have one. I became furious and scolded the President. I warned him about Rome’s history and how it so closely paralleled our own country’s-including the era that immediately preceded its downfall

He told me it was time to leave; i didn’t take a book since i could not have that 3 volume set. We walked through a dank network of tunnel systems, torch in hand and arrived in another room that looked worn-out. The original national flag (the one sewn by Betsy Ross according to American tradition) was hung on a wall in front of me. The president pointed to it and told me to go up to it. As i approached, i felt the ground beneath me start to quake. Woke up.

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