Click Here for Part OneClick Here for Part Two(When we last left him, Tommy Christopher had gotten into the Illinois Pre-Inaugural ball based solely on his nonchalant charm and bon homme-ery.)My buddy later said to me, incredulously, "You just waltzed right in there?"

To which I replied, "No, waltzing would have drawn all kinds of attention. I just walked."
As I said before, Chaka Khan was performing. I felt like saying to her, "Since you're every woman, do you think you could give me back the CDs I loaned you before we broke up? And why'd you jam your brakes on at that green light last week?"
After Chaka, there was a DJ, at which time I challenged Rahm Emanuel to a krump battle, defeating him handily, all in my head as I took this picture.
It was a very nice party, with one major weakness: cash bar! Cash bar?
Tommy don't like it. Eff the cash bar, eff the cash bar. I'm on a pretty tight budget, so what was I going to do?

I decided to have two quick cups of tea, just to get the blood flowing after my hours of walking in the frigid air. I scanned the room, looking for Rahm Emanuel, or maybe Rod Blagojevich. You laugh, but balls like these were made for him.
Now, I had wheedled my way in once, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it again, so I was a little bit nervous about going outside for a cigarette. "I can't wait 'til Obama lifts all these smoking bans," I thought.
My heinous nicotine addiction won out, so I went outside for a smoke.
I made a few phone calls while I was out there, and I practiced what I was going to say to Rahm Emanuel if I ran into him. I wanted to throw him off-message, maybe get him to say he would end me.
As I leaned against a giant potted plant, wearing a black leather trench coat (the combined effect of which seems to be that I looked like a very small, somewhat sinister botanist), two young women came up to me and started talking to me.
One of them was Tiffani Hart, a blonde ball of energy, who jokes to people that she wants to be the next Monica Lewinsky. It's a good joke, to which I replied, "I'm better than Bill."

Her companion was Julia, a Russian girl who was on TV back home, and who is a journalist in the States now.
Tiffani was dressed in the sexiest of ball-wear, including really long gloves. I guess those are for people who get cold only on
the bottom 7/8 of their arms.
A few minutes later, we were joined by Abir, an exotic beauty with a husky, sexy voice. She's also a princess. No, I don't mean she's spoiled or something, she's an actual Princess, from Jordan. I know, I was fascinated, too.
I quickly found out that whenever she introduces herself, she says, "Abir, like the drink." I immediately kicked

myself for not coming up with a smooth comeback, like, "Well, if you're a beer, it has to be Schlitz, the champagne of beers."
I've never hung out with a princess before. My first wife had a dog named Princess, that was as close as I'd ever gotten.
She was a lot of fun, very down to earth. Her companion, Tiffani, was like a blonde pinball, ricocheting around the room making friends and influencing people.
After awhile, the Illinois ball started to wind down, so we headed downtown, to a little bar called
Bodega. It was a relatively quiet place, compared to the rest of DC. Before very long, I was averting a brawl.

This seems to happen wherever I go, and I sometimes wonder what happens in all the places that I'm not at. In this case, Tiffani made a joke to another customer, and the guy got all offended. I don't get that. After someone smiles and confirms that they were joking, why then be a jerkoff? Did he think Tiffani was going to pull off one of her 3 foot gloves and slap him with it? Javelins at dawn?
I went over to talk to him, kinda calm him down, but the journalist in me kept finding inconsistencies in his statements. Luckily, I'm a funny, friendly drunk, so I was eventually able to defuse both Tiffani's offense, and several of my own.
We were joined, shortly, by two Illinois political operatives that we met at the ball. We drank some more, and everyone was feeding each other food. Except me. They ordered shrimp, and I don't do seafood. No matter how hard I try, I can't make that sound masculine.
Eventually, it was time to go home, and an hour after that time, I did go home. As I staggered into the hotel, my pride in having consumed almost 8 light beers began to wane, and I started to consider (while pee-pee dancing) the obvious parallels and contrasts between the two halves of my night out.
Less obvious, but interesting, is the fact that Tiffani's day job is in biomedical sales, while Paula told me she sold Craftmatic adjustable beds before her troubles started. Something else that I noticed is that all of the people I spoke to that night told their stories with their eyes. Maybe I was just more attuned to it.
The homeless people that I spoke to that night all expressed elation at Barack Obama's victory, and not one of them was looking for a handout. Tanonnah Tyson just wants a place where she can afford to live on the money she works hard for. Kenny expressed the hope that many of us share, that Barack Obama's policies result in job creation. He wanted the social security system that he paid into, and which provides him with the litlle he has, protected.
At the ball, the people I spoke with expressed similar ideas, more obtusely. The general idea is that if Barack Obama's policies work, everyone will be better off.
For me, my experiences that night challenged many of my own assumptions. For example, when I first started talking to Paula, I had a pre-formed backstory about the street drummers, and a feeling that her problems were purely the result of substance abuse. In fact, the only reason I talked to her was to keep her from annoying the people in the crowd.
I headed up to my room, the nightly cost of which I won't divulge (except to say that even Abir gasped when I told her), and I resisted the urge to wrap it all together like the end of a Doogie Howser episode. Life's not like that. I couldn't figure out the meaning of life, no matter how much I wanted to. I could just live it, and feel privileged to do so.
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