An evening walk down King Street toward the Torpedo Factory in Alexandria, VA, with my wife and son was abruptly interrupted by flashing red lights, police vehicles suddenly blocking off traffic, and armed/uniformed officers who prevented pedestrians from proceeding. A somewhat somber silence fell over the crowd of now stationary people as curiosity fought fear for mental prominence.
When enormous battleship gray SUV's urgently rolled from nowhere into the middle of King Street, and football player sized/demeanored men in dark suits began scurrying about, the answers to myriad questions began to formulate in our clouded, confused minds. Someone of great prominence was about to be whisked away in a flurry of unfamiliar motion.
A restaurant door and a door on the largest of the SUV's opened simultaneously just a few feet apart. Preceeded by the largest of the football players, a tall and slender woman conservatively dressed with hair pulled back appeared to be belched from the restaurant only to be swallowed up once again by the sinister SUV. Instantly, four vehicles jumped to life and drove off impetuously leaving multiple suited football players behind to shake hands with the armed/uniformed officers, patting them on the back and expressing appreciation for their support.
The entire event had drawn to a speedy close in the time it took for the image of Mrs. President Obama to register in our brains. Just as the crowd had frozen in place, it now thawed and flowed smoothly in a hundred different directions once again. All that remained were more questions: Why was she eating alone? How did she come to choose that particular restaurant? What did she eat? Did she wave? Didn't she wave? Was her hair really pulled back? How often does she eat out alone? Those questions will remain unanswered.
