NOBAMA

We were in Martin’s Tavern after an interview with the longest serving waiter when we got the call.  Obama was arriving at Union Station.  We weren’t as rushed as I thought we would be as we exited the tavern.  The team hailed a cab and headed for Union Station.  It was dark when we got there and we were all anxious to see Obama.  The cold punched me in the face as I stepped out of the taxi.  K-9 cops and Secret Service agents were scattered around the front of the train station.  People were everywhere, swarming into Union Station to get a glimpse of our next president.

            The inside of Union Station was packed and the spirit was festive.  People milled around trying to find out where Obama was arriving.  We headed toward the train platforms and the largest crowd.  Our group of kids squeezed through the masses.  We took advantage of our size and made use of every crack and open space, weaving our way to the front.  I was already feeling squished when someone yelled “OBAMA!!!!”  All hell broke loose.  People were screaming and yelling.  The whole crowd surged and was condensed against the glass door that separated us from where the train was to arrive.   The mob became unruly.  My excitement at seeing Obama was mixed with fear of being crushed.  I was packed like a sardine in a can.  The parents finally pulled us out one by one because the situation was dangerous.  We waited on the sidelines, and waited, and waited.  We looked around and realized there where no Secret Service or press.  There was no way Obama was coming this way.  As we were leaving we got a call that he had left in his motorcade.  Nobama.