In the dream, I’m in a dingy basement that I instictively know is Room 19, the hangout for Catholic University English Department grad students, even though the layout is different. George W. Bush is sitting at a computer, flanked by Colin Powell, Karl Rove, and Andrew Card. (Card looks like Leo McGarry, since I don’t know what he looks like himself.) I’m just about to walk up to my buddy Lee to ask what all these people are doing down here when there’s a bit of commotion. For some reason I rush to my laptop to figure out what’s going on, and there it is, right on my screen: John Kerry has been declared the winner of the election!
My happy whoops and hollers are greeted by stony silence, since Lee is suddenly nowhere to be found and I’m surrounded by dour Republicans. So then (and this is the embarrassing part of the dream) I realize that I should just keep my head low and my eyes and ears open, because I’m about to be privy to Bush’s immediate response to losing the election, _and then I can blog about it_.
First he just stares at his own computer screen in disbelief. Then he looks at the people around him, as if for confirmation. “Maybe it’s for the best,’ says Powell, who is clearly relieved. Over in the corner, Ari Fleischer (?!) is clattering away at another computer, muttering “We can fix this we can fix this” under his breath.
George Bush stands up and turns to face his supporters. “We’ve reached the end of the road,” he says in a steady voice. “I want to thank each of you so very much for everything you’ve done. Please accept these pastries.” The speech brings tears to my eyes, and as I leave I think “Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.” But once outside I look at a newspaper and discover that he is “appealing” the election and plans to fight it every step of the way, even though Kerry’s victory was overwhelming.
It dawns on me that the whole moving pastry speech was a ruse to fool me into thinking he was a nice guy. “Well, at least he lost,” I muse. I am then consumed by a tremendous craving for sushi.