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On Turban Etiquette

February 29th, 2008 by admin

On Turban Etiquette

Obama got in on a sunny day in August, 2006. The tarmac was flawless and the click of highly polished dignitary shoes on special airplane asphalt seemed right to him. He wondered where they sold something the kids wouldn’t be freaked out about eating. He used the bathroom and couldn’t figure out how to get more towels out of the dispenser.

Obama didn’t see his father’s family right away. He left the family to unpack and wandered the sales with a discreet appointed escort. The glut heat was pierced with exotic scents and he realized that you never stop growing. He bought a bracelet from a youth with a cleft lip and thought he’d display it in his office. When he tells the story people think him magnanimous, and he likes it that way.

Obama went to visit his kin feeling very self-satisfied and assured. He marveled at his own accomplishments and his secret ego grew three centimeters around. The meeting was held in tones of estrangement till even an hour felt gasped. Some hopes are never to be realized.

Obama’s itinerary called for many cultural activities. He was vaguely aware of the potential for political disaster, but was more nervous about proper turban etiquette. The cloth smelled like fresh guinea pig bedding and a strange bridge to childhood was formed. Resume bolstering aside, this is secretly his most loved part of the trip.

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