John Kelly's Washington
John Kelly: Too early in the day for a brush with reality
I padded down to breakfast the other morning in my pajamas and bathrobe and was surprised to find a man in a dinner jacket seated at the table. It was Tareq Salahi.
"Ah, John," he said, rising, "so nice to see you." His right hand found mine, and he gave a firm shake while simultaneously taking a photo of our impromptu grip-and-grin with his iPhone.
"What are you doing in my house?" I asked.
"You invited me for breakfast, my friend," he said smoothly.
"Um, I don't think so."
"Well it is my understanding that you did," he said. "But let us not quibble about that now. I do have details of my invitation -- your invitation to me -- and I will release them at the appropriate time. For now, though, let us enjoy breakfast."
His fingers pecked at his iPhone. "I have just tagged us on Facebook," he said.
The door to the kitchen swung open, and a camera crew crab-walked into the room. A furry boom microphone hovered above a blond head that was bathed in camera light.
"Ah, John," said Michaele Salahi, "so nice to see you."
She was tall and model-thin, and she was dressed in a Blue Angels flight suit.
"Your house is charming," said Michaele, "and I think it might be the perfect setting for a fundraising event Tareq and I are planning. Our charity is called Taken for a Ride. Both of us feel very strongly that we must end the heartbreak of incontinence in retired polo ponies."
"I would like you to get out of my house," I said.