Bill Clinton
(August 18, 2004)

"Why are you here?"  Ham yelled to me as he entered World of Ham headquarters.

It was early on a Wednesday morning.  In fact it was so early that I beat Ham into Headquarters.  I was surfing the internet looking for a tam.

"What do you mean?"
"I mean, why are you here?"

He walked over to my desk, grabbed the remote control changing the channel from my show, Kim Possible to Breakfast Television.  I don't know why Ham watches Breakfast Television so much.  Seriously, am I going to listen to a guy in suspenders telling me the traffic conditions?

"This is what I mean."

I watched the screen as my nemesis "Patricia Puddy" reported "LIVE" (it's always LIVE on City-TV).

"I'm here on Bay Street in downtown Toronto in front of Canadian megabookstore, Indigo's headquarters.  where later today, former US President Bill Clinton will be signing copies of his new autobiography "My Life".  It is Clinton's only stop in Canada on his much publisized book tour.  With the former president signing only 1000 books a lineup began to form yesterday shortly after 6 PM.  Mark Bellamy a 35 year old marketing executive camped out here all night.  Why did you do it Mark?"

"Oh, I can't believe they are camping out down there.  I'm sure the first thing Mr. Clinton wants to see is someon who didn't shower and slept in his clothes like some homeless person." I said.

"And for your information, I was researching the internet for facts about Bill Clinton for my interview."
"What interview?  There are already a thousand people in line.  You won't get to meet him."
"I have my sources."
"Does you sources have you wandering the sidewalk hoping Clinton does a 'walk-by' greeting his fans?"

"Umm... it may."

I left World of Ham headquarters before Ham could say anything else.  As I walked towards Bay Street, I could hear a helicopter hovering over the city.  I tried to think of the nearest hospital but as I turned the corner onto Bay Street it all became clear.  The helicopter was hovering over the Indigo book store and had no markings, no red cross painted on its bottom.  The helicopter for obviously for security, Bill Clinton's security.

There were two 20 x 20 pitch up tents on the sidewalk in front of the bookstore  surrounded by Toronto Police officiers with the sidewalk barricaded from the public.  People were 5-7 deep along the barricades all the way down the block.  People were standing on the roof tops surrounding Indigo.  People were pressed against the many condos overlooking the street.  People were even standing on bike stands from across the street all with one goal - to catch a glimpse of Bill Clinton!  I have a feeling if Bay Street wasn't the concrete dominance of financial concrete and had some trees on it, people would be hanging in the trees like monkeys trying to get a glimpse of him.

Inside the barricaded sidewalk, close to the two tents where hoardes of media; television, radio, print, internet.  All the usual suspects were there, waiting for Clinton to stop signing books in north tent.  I kept my eye on Adam Vaughn, the master ambush reporter of City-TV.  Adam likes to get into the face of his subject while asking his interviewees questions.  Adam seemed relitively calm and relaxed so I knew Bill was not even close to leaving the tent.

I stood at the back of the crowd, every so often standing on my tippy toes looking into the baricaded area.  As I stood I heard the mumours from the crowd.

"What was he like?"
"Charismatic."
"Charming."
"So polite and nice - he's more Canadian than Martin."

"How long did you wait in line?"
"I camped out."
"I got here at 3 AM after the bars closed."
"I came after work last night."
"6 AM - and I'm lucky.  I think I was number 987."

Again I looked at Adam Vaughn who checked his watch and yawned.  Across the street there was a cheer from the people standing on the bike stands.  Adam Vaughn jumped to his feet and looked behind him.  The combination of the crowd cheering and Adam getting ready to ambush could only mean one thing: Bill Clinton was approaching the sidewalk.  Everybody in front of me stood on their tippy toes so I did too, and just like everyone else I saw nothing.  Even Adam returned to his yawning. 

After thirty minutes of tippy toeing in the crowd my legs couldn't take it any longer.  I concided to Ham.  He was right.  I was not going to get an interview with Bill Clinton so I gave up.  I started to walk up the street when I heard a huge roar from the crowd.  I quickly turned around to see 5-6 men in suits surrounding a tall white haired man as he walked along the sidewalk shaking hands.  I had missed Bill Clinton.  If only I had stayed for an extra two minutes I might have had a chance to meet him.

I left Bay Street in disgust to walk to Harveys for a late lunch.  Whenever I'm blue I'll always get a Harveys Strawberry milkshake to cheer me up.

Since it was a little past three, too early for supper, too late for lunch, I had the entire Harveys to myself.  It was refreshing after dealing with the mob of people at the book signing.  I ordered my meal and sat in the corner near the washrooms soaking in the peacefulness of the mid afternoon.  I sat there at my little table recalling my day of disappointment.  "Maybe Ham was right.  Maybe I did screw it up.  Maybe I'm not cut out for this."

Just as I was doubting my natural abilities, five thirty-something men, all in suits, came into Harveys.  It is not unusual for five suits to eat at Harveys but what made it unusual was that all five men were in great shape.  There was no sign of fast food obseisity.  One man, obviously the leader of the gang, asked for the manager.  Two walked down, passed me, to the washrooms where one went into the men's and one into the women's.  One went back behind the counter into the kitchen.  The last man stood at the entrance.

The manager came from the kitchen and talked to the first man.  They talked in low voices but I could tell by the manager's continous nods that something big was about to happen.  Managers don't take orders very well unless it is important.  The manager called over his employees.  The man talked again in a low voice and all the employees nodded.

"Excuse me Miss."

I jumped back.  One of the washroom men had snuck up behind me as I was watching the manager.

"Gee whiz, you scared me."
"Miss, my name is Agent Petticoat of the United States Secret Service."
He flashed a badge at me.

"President Clinton is in town for a book signing..."
"Yes I know, I was there - although I didn't get to meet him."
"Well, he needs some lunch.  He will be arriving shortly.  I'll see what we can do about you meeting him."
"Really?  Thank you so much."
"But I have to frisk you first."

I agreed to be frisked by the cute secret service agent.  Some people might be offended that I was assumed to be a terrorist or assassin but I understood he was just doing his job.  He also went through my purse where he found my fake press pass that Ham made for me.

"You're a reporter?"
"Yes, World of Ham."
"Never heard of it but I'm not familiar with Canadian media."
"Don't worry neither are Canadians."

Five more suits rushed into Harveys.  In between them like the caramel of a rolo was a white haired man.  As the five suits spread out to the perimetre, I could see that the white haired man was indeed Bill Clinton.

Clinton walked to the manager who had moved to behind the counter.

"I want to personally thank you for letting me eat here.  When former Prime Minister Jean Chretien and I were golfing at Camp David, he told me the next time I was in Canada to head on over to a Harveys."

"It's an honour having you here sir.  Mara will be happy to take your order."

Clinton leaned up against the counter, looking over the menu.

"Thank you Mara.  How are you today?"
"Fine sir."
"I think I'll have a Big Harv.  It looks good."
"The combo sir?"
"Yes please."
"Fries or onion rings?"
"Hmm.... now that's a tough decision.  How about both."
"Oh, you can only have one."
"It's okay Mara.  President Clinton can have whatever he wants."
"And to drink?"
"A coke please."
"Anything else?"
"No, I think I'm fine."

Agent #1, the leader, coughed.

"Right, Rick.  And a salad please.  Chelsea is always after me to add a little green to my meals."

While waiting for the Big Harv to cook, Clinton worked over Mara.

"So where are you from?"
"Toronto."
"born and raised?"
"Yes sir."
"You know I love Toronto.  This is my first time here but I've always loved it.  Ever since I took a break from the middle east peace talks that I hosted to watch the Toronto Blue Jays win the World Series.  You won and there was no rioting, only peaceful celebrations."

The hamburger was ready.

"What would you like on your burger?"
"Everything."

As Mara put everything on the Presidental Big Harv, Clinton leaned over the counter.

"Mara, you're doing a bang-up job."  She blushed.

After his meal was ready, he thanked the staff, picked up his tray and looked at me while the leader agent whispered in his ear.  Never taking his eyes off me, Bill Clinton walked towards me and sat down across from me.

"I hear you tried to see me today at the book signing."
"Yes."
"And that you are a reporter."
"Yes, that is correct."

He put down his Big Harv, wiped his lips and held out his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you.  I'm former US President Bill Clinton."  I shook his hand.
"I'm Suzy TooToo, star reporter for World of Ham."
He went back to eating and I went back to slurping on my milkshake.

"What is World of Ham?"
"It's this stupid website my friend made.  He tried to get a job in the media but no one would hire him so he started his own media outlet."
"He's very inisuititive."
"He's also very poor."

"If I could help him out Suzy, I would."
"Do you have a chequebook?  That would help out a lot."
"How about we just start with this exclusive interview.?"
"Fair enough.  Let's start."

"Does Ham have some questions for you to ask me?"

Wrong thing to say buddy.  How dare he assume I can't ask my own questions!  What a sovernist!  What a loser!  As if I would listen to Ham anyway.  The last time I did that the press conference ended abruptly.  I am an independent woman, I think I can ask my own questions.

"No, I know what I want to ask."
"Fire away Miss TooToo."

"Why do you and Adolf Hitler have the same name for your autobiographies?"
"WHAT?"
"Hitler's autobiography is titled "Mein Keimpt" which means "My Life" in German.  Your autobiography is also called "My Life".  Why?"
"Are you implying..."
"No, I'm just asking."
"Well, I've never been asked that question before."
"You've never been interviewed in a Harveys either."

"My Life, is a natural title for any autobiography.  I am sure there are many books with the title 'My Life'.  It was in no way meant to emulate Adolf Hitler's book."
"I know, I just thought I would ask."

"Why did you get the title from?  It's seems rather..."
"rather what?"
"plain.  From the man who coined "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" and "It depends on your definition of 'is' is" I expected a much better title."

"What would you have called it?"
"I would have used the fact that you were born in Hope, AK.  Maybe something like 'From Hope to Washington' or 'The Great White Hope' or 'It came from Hope'.  Something catchy.  Something better than the same title of a Nazi autobiography."

"Did you at least enjoy my book?"
"I didn't read it.  I'll just wait for the movie.  I've seen 'Primary Colours' which is basically your life up to the Presidency.  I'll just wait for the sequel 'Secondary Colours'."

"Did you at least buy my book?  I'll be happy to sign it for you."
"$40 for a book!   Are you crazy?  I can't afford that.  I don't get the tax breaks that you get."
He snapped his finger to summon the leader agent.  He gave Clinton a copy of his book.  Clinton opened it up to the cover, pulled a pen from his inside pocket and began to sign the book.

"It is a shame about tax cuts for the wealthy.  I shouldn't be getting them.  My tax paying dollars should be going to health care reform, education - like how it was when I was in the White House.  You know the congress wouldn't pass my budget but I refused to compromise.  In the end they saw it my way."

"Here you go - a free copy of my book."
He stood up with his tray in hand.

"Miss TooToo it's been a pleasure.  It's not often I get asked a tough question like the one you gave me.  I hope you enjoy the book and that I don't get asked that question again.  You really must read it."

"It was nice to meet you too Mr. President."
"I will keep tuned to your friend's website.  Maybe I'll write a column for him someday."
He cleaned his tray into the garbage.
"Bye Miss TooToo." he said as he left his first experience at Harveys.

I opened up the autobiography. In the inside cover he signed it:

"To Miss TooToo:  I'll try not to name my next memoirs the same title as one of the most evil people in the history of the world.  Thanks for the tip.    Bill Clinton"