This Just In!
By Lake Stevens, Man About Town
October 12, 2004
Lunch with Laura
I am thrilled to bring you an extra-exclusive interview with our noble First Lady, Mrs. Laura Bush.
This meeting was made possible through a chance encounter with Barbara and Jenna Bush, our nation's
First Daughters. I met the twins at a small LA club after Jenna burned my new Michael Kors turtleneck
with her Marlboro 100. To make amends and ensure that I wouldn't report the copious amounts of cocaine
and Ritalin the Bush girls were snorting with Courtney Love (oops...sorry sweeties), they were kind enough
to arrange a lunch date for me with their mother, our First Lady. After the interview, despite the fact
that I had to have vomit cleaned off of my Hermés valise (what is it with these Bush women and their will
to destroy my personal property?), Laura and I formed a lasting bond. I'll never look at politics the same. Until next time,
XOXO -- Lake
Lake: Yoo hoo, Laura, over here! Welcome, welcome -- I'm Lake Stevens! Your daughters, bless
their hearts, were such angels to make this all come together. Ever since I first watched Jackie O
waving from that convertible, it's been a dream of mine to dine with a First Lady! I want to extend
a sincere welcome on behalf of the great City of Angels -- and more importantly -- to my favorite
epicurean haunt, Ivy.
Laura: Thank you, Mr. Stevens. It's a lovely restaurant.
Lake: I insist that you call me Lake and order the fois gras sandwich. It's fabulous. Have you had
foie gras...? Oh wait...I forgot that you hail from Texas; I'm sure something that exotic wouldn't appeal
to your practical sensibilities. Remember the Alamo! May I call you Laura?
Laura: 'First Lady' will be fine, Mr. Stevens. And I live in Washington DC now which has plenty of
fois gras. After all, it is just the over-sized, fatty liver from a forcibly fed goose.
Lake: What a sense of humor! Fois gras....goose liver, ha! You really are too much, Laura. Yes,
of course you live in Washington DC...being First Lady and all. Do you and George share the same room,
or do you go the more Nick at Nite route and have separate 'His N' Hers?'
Laura: Yes, the President, preferably 'Mr. President,' and I share a room. Mr. Stevens, I don't mean
to be impolite, but I thought I was here to talk about my husband's run for re-election. I also would
like to discuss a few of the key social programs I helped spearhead as First Lady.
Lake: Oh yes, how rude of me -- your social programs! Please tell me all about the dinner and cocktail
parties you throw for foreign diplomats. Do you do the cooking yourself or do you have the housemaid whip
up a batch of ribs and five alarm Texas chili? It's funny, Laura, because I recently attended a very, shall
we say rambunctious, cocktail party at a certain Italian diplomat's house in Paris. An Italian party in the
City of Love...of course it was going to turn into an orgy! The "wife" had to be pried from under a pile of
the most incorrigible Italian soldiers. The only reason I was able to free her was due to the generous amount
of Astroglide that was flowing as liberally as the Viognier. "She" claims to have lost "her" best emerald
cocktail ring in the process... Who does "she" think "she's" fooling? Laura, I think you know as well as I
how many of those wops have gypsy blood. I don't know how many times my "friends" have awoken to find their
wallets and watches missing the next morning.
Laura: Your experience sounds very, errrr, fascinating, Mr. Stevens...and please call me Mrs. First Lady.
Do you have any questions about the President and his campaign?
Lake: Later, later. Let's order first. I really can't get going until I have a few martinis; it is already
well past noon and I am parched. I would be happy to order a martini for you as well...or do you prefer
something a little more genteel -- perhaps a sloe-gin fizz or mint julip?
Laura: Thank you, but I don't drink. I gave up the stuff years ago. Ever since my husband, the President,
became 'born again,' he has stayed far away from the fire water. He says that it's best I do the same...liquor
does tend to loosen the tongue.
Lake: Born again? Is your husband a Hindu? I thought they didn't eat meat. They don't drink either? What dull
parties you must have. I just assumed you were both big drinkers, what after running into your half naked
daughters at that great new club over on La Cienega. Have you and George been there yet? It is terribly
hard to get into; however, I just happen to know the door man. I could probably put in a good word for you--
Laura: George, I mean Mr. President, is a born again Christian. To be frank, Lake, many years ago my husband
had a small, um, problem with...with controlled substances and alcohol. The stress of college (he went to Yale
you know -- go Bulldogs!) coupled with the pressures of being an under-performer in a rich, over-achiever family, drove him to
drink and engage in other destructive habits of the devil. Ever since he accepted Jesus into his heart, he has
been a new....and different...man.
Lake: No drinking at all? Are you sure, Laura? I saw him debating last week -- he kept blanking out and
forgetting words. You're sure he's not on the sauce? He sounded exactly like the "wife" after one too many white
wine and San Pellegrino spritzers. How can you entertain all those Europeans without serving drinks? The French
won't even get up unless there's a bevvy on the nightstand. No wonder they hate us so much; they must loathe your
Laura: Europe HATES us because of Iraq, not because my husband doesn't drink! Oh dear me, please don't print that
last part. I'm all nerves right now...we've been traveling so much. I'm sure you understand.
Lake: In that case, would you care for a cigarette? They are hand rolled in Turkey. Only the best for Lake and
the First Lady.
Laura: I gave up smoking ten years ago. However, sometimes -- like now, for instance -- I have moments where I
could just kill for a cigarette.
Lake: Let's order -- some food will surely help to calm your condition.
[to waiter] Seared fois gras sandwiches and champagne for two.
I order this every time I'm at Ivy -- they call it the "Lake Stevens lunch." Isn't that sweet? Anyway, I'm positive
that my readers are dying to know what a typical week is like for Laura and George? Oohh, that was quick -- here
comes the champers. Bottoms up, dear!
Laura: The PRESIDENT and I live a very typical American life. [pause] Against my better judgment, I do have to admit
that this sparkling wine is wonderful. Is it Reunite?
Lake: Oh, you silly woman - this is Dom Perignon! Surely there must be a bottle stashed somewhere in the
White House. Try looking in the linen closet; I saw a movie on Lifetime once where the drunk hid the booze in with the
linens...that could very well be where George keeps his stash. Have another glass.
Laura: This is simply -- gulp -- wonderful. May I have third?
Lake: Of course, dear. So you live a "typical" American life? Does that mean dinner at Applebee's and frozen hams from
Costco? I hope not -- it would be such an upset and a waste of my time... I cancelled my weekly mani-pedi with
Justin for this interview. I was banking on coming away with something more glamorous -- like maybe a murder...or at least
tax evasion. Another glass of champers, hon?
Laura: FWIRST LADY. (cough) I mean, I am the First Lady of the United States. The United States of, of - oh,
just pour me another, wouldja?
Lake: So Laura, tell me, what is your typical weekday morning? A small sensible working breakfast with the President? A
spirited discussion of foreign affairs over coffee and croissants? Or is the President more of a scrapple and eggs
kind of fella?
Laura: I wish we breakfasted together. He usually just has a bowl of Count Chocula. The only traces of him that I
see are the pools of chocolate milk soaking into the Page 6 section of the New York Post. He does love to follow
Britney Spears' career...he can never wait to see what new sort of mischief she pulls next; he says he can't believe
she's not a Texan. Besides, the President really is not interested in foreign affairs. And if I try to "butt in,"
you'd better look out! Once I tried to give him what I thought to be some helpful advice when he was Governor of Texas. He gpt so angry
he backed the SUV right over the dog!
Lake: How dreadful for you and your family!
Laura: Now that we're close, Lake, I might let you in on a little secret: that little Scottie dog he carries everywhere,
well, that's the third one in four years. The first, as I mentioned, was run over in a fit of anger. I took care of
the second one...the barking...always that barking. Please don't tell George! He's prone to rash decisions
regarding execution! May I have another refill?
Lake: Oh goody, here comes the food! It smells divine. Since it sounds like you're not spending
much of your time with George, how would you describe your typical afternoon? Shopping with your daugthers? Teas? Luncheons with celebrities?
Laura: Luncheons? Forget about the luncheons. George doesn't want me to socialize too much. He says I may get 'ideas' or be
influenced by the wealthy socialites of the Washington scene. Ideas! I buy my clothes from JC Penney! How does he expect
me to fit in with the Washington set if he won't let me shop at a real department store? Give me one of those cigarettes.
The man wants to live a typical American life, but how many "typical" American billionaires get their suits from The Men's Warehouse? He won't even take
me to Chili's unless we have a quepon! But then, look at him, he's suddenly Mr. Big Tough President, Mr. Leader of the
Free World...he thinks he can just go and invade a nation! You should see the skid marks in his Jockey shorts...
Lake: You have no idea how much I would love to see those...but what about your weekends? Do you and
George keep the weekends for yourselves?
Laura: George likes to spend his downtime at the ranch. I always feel so isolated and alone there -- espeshully now
that the girls have been sent out into the world to find husbands. There isn't a neighbor for at least 12 miles. On
Saturdays, George likes to think he's a ranch hand or cowboy. He particularly enjoys cuttin' down trees and bragging to me that there
won't be any wildfires on our ranch...just like there ain't no wildfires in our bed. Sometimes he shoots at the cows, which is somethin'
I'll never understand. It's not as if they're cunning or even moving targets. Champagne me!
Sundays are the worst...when he drags me to that awful Christian church of his.
I don't need no fat, wife beatin' minister to tell me we're all goin' to hell. Christ, don't you think I already know that -- look at
who I'm married to! I read the New York Times! They don't even serve the real stuff at communion. The worst is when
George falls asleep. Every Sunday he insists on sittin' in front row, and every week, without fail, he falls asleep and snores. It's
Lake: I'll say.
Laura: As a ed...educated librarian, I usedta read some quite a bit. I even org'nized an event where poets could come into the
White House to read their po-poems. George made me canshul at the last minute because all the stuff turned
out to be asgainsht of his presshidency. Now alls I can do is sit in front of the TV and watch our
country -- America brave and free! -- and the resht of the world collapse under my husband's 'rule.' Lake, would you give me another cigarette?
Thanks, sugar. He never listens. He spends all of his time with that creepy Cheney character. There is shomething about that Cheney...
D'jou know that time Cheney asked me to spank 'em when George was off meetin' with the United Auto Workers or some mothers drunk driving thing...
I heard he likes himself some of that 'anal play.' Now, you wouldn't know anything 'bout that, wouldja, Lake?
I jest don't think he's a good influence on Georgie...oh my...none that anal for my honey...
Lake: Laura, are you feeling alright? You look somewhat peaked. Shall I ask the garçon to bring a moist serviette
for your forehead?
Laura: Yes, Lake...I really don't feel so good...where's my handbag..? Shit...
Lake: Well perhaps it is best we conclude this interview. Thank you so much for your candidness, First Lady Laura.
It's been my pleasure...oh, hey, no...not on my briefcase….goddammit!
Lake: Check please!
-Lake Stevens, Man About Town