Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Suddenly, on that fateful night ... (cont'd)

I hung up the phone and pondered my assignment. Sure, I could disguise myself as a Wall Street Occupier. But as their leader?

I thumbed through a few of the latest issues of  Newsweek magazines looking for ideas. I knew I'd need to smell like natural herbs and essential oils, and maybe organic deodorant. I'd have to be as dirty as if I'd been chimney sweeping. But how would I be able to assert myself as their leader?

I was late for my dental exam, X-rays and cleaning, but this was no time for a clean mouth. I quickly headed out in my squeeky clean ride thanks to auto detailing services, and called my contact. When he answered, I uttered our key phrase, baking and candy making supplies. He responded, "Joe Frazier walked across the Tappan Zee Bridge. Go ahead Agent Lohan." I cleared my throat. I don't know what to wear." There was silence on the other end, and the sound of muffled laughter. "Alright Lo, go get some high water jeans on like Joe Paterno wears. Shirt doesn't matter. Wear Tom's. They're expensive, but it's what they're wearing. Do you know how to infiltrate?" "I do, and actually I'm nearing the protest. I'll call you when I'm in."

I parked behind a VW van, and climbed out. In seconds, I was surrounded by people needing resume and cover letter help, and some sleep.These tents couldn't be as comfortable as the Loews Vanderbilt Hotel. Some looked like Goofballs holding up some sort of educational toys. Others looked like me. Still others reminded me of my insane college professor... old Mr. Sandusky who snorted grape juice during class. I walked through the crowd up toward the front.

Sharon Bialek and Gloria Allred, two of the Herman Cain accusers were dancing, though I couldn't hear any music. A man with a bullhorn stepped up on stage. I knew this was my chance.

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