Respect
"Hey, John, come on in, have a seat."
"Thank you, Mister President, but that looks
a bit too soft for me. Don't you have something a little harder? A stool,
perhaps?"
"Uh, no, mmm, I can see if I can get
something sent up."
"Never mind. I'll just stand. I don't do
soft."
"Okay, then. So. Are you ready for a fight?"
"Yes sir, Mister President. Put 'em up."
"No, John, settle down big guy. Not me. I'm
talking about the Senate. A lot of those guys are pretty quarrelsome. They
might just try to hold up your nomination as UN ambassador because, well,
they're of the opinion that you don't care much for the United Nations, and
that my putting you in there might send a negative signal to our allies."
"Allies? Huh. I'm sure you can ram me
through. You are the president, aren't you? Not just some poseur. Because
I'll tell you straight out, I don't deal with poseurs, and if you don't
think you have the balls to..."
"Wait a minute, John, don't get all excited,
you know good and well that I can pretty much get whatever I want."
"Oh, yeah? Doesn't look like you're doing too
good of a job with that Social Security initiative of yours, does it? Maybe
we should just forget about this whole deal if you're going to squirm like a
spineless little jellyfish."
"I'm not squirming. I'm not. We're going to
get you in. You know, Cheney really likes you a lot."
"No, he doesn't like me, he respects
me. He's tough, like I am. When I told him that I wouldn't care if the UN
building lost ten stories, he one upped me. Twenty stories, that's what he
wouldn't care about. That's a lot of not caring, and I respect a man who
exercises his ability to not care. Just how much do you not care, Mister
President?"
"Uh, well, I don't care about a lot of
things. I don't care about fifty percent of the folks in this country to
start with. I really don't care about the French, and I don't give a good
goddamn about the Germans, and closer over to our own border, I don't think
that I could care less about the Canadians."
"Huh. Pretty low-grade not caring, if you ask
me. Me and Dick, we don't care about a single goddamn one of those
jibber-jabbering countries except for a couple of the ones speak a little
English, like the British and the Australians. And of course, we like Togo."
"Wow. You really are a professional! And I
like what you were saying about the old guy a minute ago. We sure as hell
don't need the world to like us, but respect, that's imperative. Looks like
we're going to need a nickname for you, John."
"How about Mister Gruff?"
"How bout The Gruffster?"
"You ever call me a cutesy name like that and
I guarantee that I will kick your ass, I don't care who else is in the room.
Now I'll ask you just one more time - how about Mister Gruff?"
"Hmm, I like that. It's got a certain, you
know, a certain kind of, uh..."
"Je ne sais quoi?"
"What you said. Say, is that French?"
"Know your enemy, Mister President. Know your
enemy." |
