“Hey, Condi,” the President snagged the Secretary of State as she was passing the door of the kitchenette, “can I get your help for a minute?”
“Sure, George,” the Secretary of State replied, unenthusiastically entering the small room.
“I been trying to make coffee with this darn thing for over an hour,” the President told her, indicating an appliance on a counter. “But, no matter what I do, I just can’t seem to make the darn thing work.”
The Secretary of State looked at the appliance for a couple of minutes. Then, she told the President: “Well, sir, I’m no expert in these matters, but, in my opinion, this is not a coffeemaker.”
“It’s not?”
“No, sir. I would venture that it is, in fact, a blender.”
The President looked like he wasn’t sure of he should smile or spit. Eventually, he smiled. “That sure explains why the coffee grounds were always cold and soggy. How about…” The President looked around the kitchenette and latched onto another appliance. “This? Can I make coffee with this?”
The Secretary of State appraised the appliance. After a couple of minutes, she announced: “You might try it – you never know what will happen if you don’t try things. But, if I had to guess, I would say that that’s a toaster.”
“A toaster?”
“Exactly. And, my experience has been that you don’t get very good coffee out of a toaster.”
The President, at a loss for words, looked around the kitchenette. Finally, he asked, “Do you, uhh, see anything that looks like you could make coffee with it?”
The Secretary of State looked at her watch. She waved a hand at a large white appliance against a wall. “That could be it,” she stated, then quickly added before the President could ask any further questions: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m late for a meeting on the war, so, if that will be all…”
The President, peering curiously at the large white appliance against the wall, offhandedly asked, “Oh? How’s that going?”
The Secretary of State shrugged. “When the contractors who have been hired to aid in the rebuilding of Iraq aren’t entirely corrupt, they are incompetent. Electricity production is sporadic, there isn’t enough clean water for everybody and oil is being pumped out at a lower rate than before the invasion – sorry, preemptive defense action. The only bright spot is that all of the companies are run by Republicans, so the party can expect their campaign contributions for, oh, probably the next few decades.”
“Good…good,” the President vaguely stated. “And, hearts and minds – how’re we doing at winning them?”
“Not so good, I’m afraid,” the Secretary of State admitted. “We have nobody who speaks the local languages. Who knew that there was such a strong positive correlation between translating foreign languages and being gay?”
“I’m not prejudiced against homos,” the President admonished her.
“Oh, no sir,” the Secretary of State quickly agreed.
“Just playing to the religious right who make up such an important part of my base.”
The Secretary of State, repeating that she was late for a meeting, promised to look into the whole “coffee making apparatus” and left. A couple of hours later, the Vice President was passing by the kitchenette.
“Hey, Dick,” the President cheerfully shouted to him, “got a sec?”
“What the fuck do you want?” the Vice President asked in his famous growl that would be charming if it wasn’t so laced with menace. “I’ve got to deal with the shitstorm the friends you appointed to the regulatory commission have made of the subprime mortgage fiasco!”
Chagrined, the President asked, “Can you help me get this to make coffee?”
The Vice President snorted. “That’s a refrigerator, you moron! Didn’t you think it was a little suspicious that you were trying to make a hot beverage with such a cold appliance?”
The President shrugged good-naturedly. “You make coffee with the appliances you have,” he quoted, “not the appliances you would like to have.”
“Why are you even doing this for yourself?” the Vice President asked. “You have assistants for this sort of thing.”
“Well, it’s a funny thing,” the President answered. “I have assistants, and they have assistants, and there are many levels of assistants under them. And, all of them are loyal to me and would do anything I asked of them – we made sure of that when we hired them – but none of them know how to brew a damn cup of coffee!”
The Vice President sighed. “Okay, look,” he growled (but softly). “I hear there’s a junior file clerk at the EPA who hasn’t been subjected to the Republican litmus test – we’ve been looking for a reason to fire her other than being a liberal. We can hold off for a couple of days, though: she may be able to make fucking coffee. I’ll look into it. Now, if you don’t mind, I have more important things to look after!”
Three days later, the President got his coffee. It was weak and lukewarm. But, it was good.