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Former president Bill Clinton should take pride in that he is definitely the best looking chubby chaser out there. I easily came to this conclusion on June 3, 2008, when Hillary Clinton held her primary night celebration in the gymnasium of Bernard Baruch College. As a recent graduate of Baruch College lacking excitement for one of the most historic races for the Democratic nomination, I decided to attend the primary.
I waited in line for hours with avid Clinton supporters chanting songs about going to Denver, “Yes she will!” many would shout. After two hours of waiting to get into a school that has accumulated a small fortune from me, I was finally in. Scuttling past reporters, wishing I had harassed one of my editors for a press pass because I could not find a seat, I settled for a spot on the floor in front of the podium with my friends. We easily became restless as we waited another hour for the event to start, I felt as if I was at a concert and wanted to shove everyone so I could get closer and then I remembered my manners unlike some of the Hillary fanatics in attendance. Many people were pushing through attempting to get a better view. Some people became creative, one man hoisted young woman onto his shoulders so she could see the podium. Now that she had a better view, we no longer had one; however, some may say we had the best view in the house because she was wearing a very short dress that hardly covered her behind in the air. This preshow ended when someone came over to tell her she needed to get down because she was blocking the press. Hillary eventually took the stage and as mechanical as she appears, she has a presence that feels welcoming and strong. She is definitely a fighter; after all, she did salvage her marriage and keep her family together after horrid public humiliation. Being cheated on is humiliating enough without the whole world bearing witness and surviving such a graphic hardship in public, a little political campaign is not going to keep her down.
After the event was over, the Clintons made their rounds shaking hands and signing autographs. I thought it would fit the occasion best if I had them sign my copy of Brett Easton Ellis’ American Psycho. The title alone is ironic enough; however, if you have read the novel about Patrick Bateman a yuppie serial killer in the 80s whose peers are so materialistic and self-absorbed that they do not realize their associate is a vicious murderer, you are aware of the irony. The highly detailed gruesome novel often has Bateman voice his crimes yet no one ever takes a moment to listen to what he is saying since it is not about money, fashion or any yuppie fad of interest and due to this, he gets away with his crimes. Sounds much like our government and when the secret service took my book away as I was trying to get it signed I became really upset knowing I would never get it back. When I did get the book back and it was autographed by Clinton I was in shock. I would have never expected that they were trying to be nice and when I saw the signature, I knew she did not even look at the book because she was being swarmed with people wanting photos and autographs.
Bill Clinton was the next to come around to shake hands and mingle with civilians. When I laid eyes on the former president in person, I felt as if I was looking at the spokesman for hot dirty old men everywhere. I still cannot believe the man I once immortalized as a chubby chaser in an article for the SexHerald was standing in front of me with piercing blue eyes and a smile that will make you want to drop your panties in a second. I absent mindedly handed him American Psycho as he shook my hand and I wondered if he needed a new intern. I realized he was flipping through the book and not wanting to end up on a list somewhere, I tried to take it back from him, he stopped me, “What are you reading?.” He took the book out of my hand and looked at the cover. His facial expression changed from sexual radiance to disappointment. I became very nervous, “It’s a really good book,” I used my innocent little girl voice on the former president and flashed him a flirty smile, “They turned it into a movie!” I sounded like an idiot. “Oh really?” He responded humoring me and smiling and then the secret service encouraged him to move on.
My original desire to jolt some political enthusiasm within me was foiled by the realization that the former president is man-candy. However, I still feel accomplished because I am thrilled to own the only copy of American Psycho autographed by the Clintons. The next book I would like autographed by a politician promising change and a ‘better America’ is Hubert Selby Jr.’s Requiem for a Dream so I can build a library of irony. Days after this event, Clinton conceded as some thought she would, giving Barack Obama the nomination; something tells me he will not be signing any of my novels any time soon.
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