No Threat to the President

Seriously, I am no threat to Mr. Obama.

On a nice spring day in Austin, Texas last year I almost gave my life, albeit involuntarily, to my country. After a long day of work I stumbled through my front door, dragged myself to the shower and revitalized just enough to catch a glimpse of some commotion outside my apartment. Being twenty stories up, I rarely have to worry about outside interference or disruptive noise, save that day. I saw helicopters in the air, boats in the lake and police cars for miles. I witnessed a barricade of buses and finally a string of black Cadillacs. Suddenly finding myself in the middle of a movie set, I found a renewed energy along with a decreased sense of needed awareness. As I pulled open the balcony door, stepped out on the ledge in my shower towel and nothing more, I suddenly realized I was in the middle of a very bad situation. You see, as several snipers readily trained their weapons on me; binoculars from their spotters blinding me with the reflections of the sun, I remembered. I remembered, in spite of the evening news and local preparation drama I had experienced for several days is the day of President Obama's visit. Almost void of color and faint of head, I had my out of body experience twenty floors up. I was now very acutely tuned into the perspective of those individuals who were about to draw their bead into the center of my chest. What do they see? They are amped, for this is their opportunity to shine. All their years of protecting the president nobody would be stupid enough to do him harm EXCEPT that crazy guy over their on the 20th floor, wrapped in a towel, tattooed from arm to arm, holding those black shiny objects (binocular and a phone). As I stumbled backwards through my sliding doors, I tried to make audible what was streaming through my head, "I am no threat to the President of the United States; Seriously, I am no threat to Mr. Obama". I could see the security continuing to move into position as I slid in a jelly-like fashion into my recliner. Reaching for another shiny and black object (remote), I turn on the news and decide to watch the rest from the comfort of my home, wound-free.


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