So somebody needs to alert the FBI because the First Lady is definitely stalking me. Did she read my post about her husband writing my to-do list? Is she mad at me for taking up his time? Because I tell you, Internet, Michelle Obama is totally following me. And I don't mean on Twitter.
When I left work today, I took a different route than I normally do, and crossing Market and Third streets, a policeman yelled at me. "Get back on the sidewalk!" he barked, even though the light at the crosswalk was flashing green. How rude!, I thought, but I stayed on the sidewalk because, you know, a policeman had told me to stay on the sidewalk and I'm pathologically afraid of the law, and all of a sudden, a motorcycle came whizzing by. And when that motorcycle was followed by fourteen other motorcycles and then five serious-looking cop cars, I knew something was up.
Michelle Obama, went the whisper in the crowd, Michelle Obama's in town, and then suddenly there she was, Michelle Obama herself, sitting up straight in the back of a fairly nondescript taupe SUV.
Oh man, she looked so pretty. We all waved and she waved back, and she was wearing huge black sunglasses and beaming, and just as soon as she'd arrived, she was gone. And when she'd gone, she left behind her a palpable excitement, a kind of euphoric energy that had strangers---locals and tourists, Americans and foreigners alike---grinning at each other with glee. All around me, people pulled out their cellphones. "Honey!" they said into the receivers. "I just saw Michelle Obama! She waved right at me!"
Half an hour later---after a brief spot of browsing in DSW, where I bought the world's most beautiful shoes so that I might always remember The Day I Saw Michelle Obama (not really, I'd wanted them for ages and felt like celebrating my recent promotion at work)---I was relating the story to Sean on our walk home. Three blocks from our apartment, I started telling him about the car she'd been in. "It was kind of just a nondescript taupe SUV," I said. "Sort of like.......whoa, sort of like that one right there, actually. Pulling up right in front of us. Surrounded by.....motorcycles. Oh my god, Sean, look. THERE'S MICHELLE OBAMA AGAIN."
(Internet, is this a coincidence? I think not. Michelle, if you're going to continue to stalk me, you need a better disguise. I'm on to you, lady! Ahem. First lady, I mean.)
This time, I was maybe ten feet from Michelle Obama (in a stripy skirt!) as she got out of the taupe SUV, smiled in our general direction ("Her again?" perhaps she thought), and was hustled into the restaurant right in front of us. Sasha and Malia were with her too---no Barack, sadly; probably too busy writing me a new wedding to-do list for Monday---and they were all swept into the restaurant by a bunch of men in black suits with earpieces who then didn't let us walk in front of the restaurant door for a good five minutes.
"Uh, did you see that?" I asked Sean, once the entourage had passed through and we'd caught our breath and were staring at each other. "Michelle Obama's SUV just pulled over in front of us---as I was telling you what it looked like---and then she got out and went into that restaurant, a restaurant we walk past every day on our way to and from work. Plus, I'd already seen her half an hour ago! Is that crazy or what?"
"It's crazy," said Sean.
"Oh man, I'm totally Twittering this," I said. "It's like I finally understand why Twitter was invented."