Meeting Michele Bachmann for the First Time
[The Following is excerpted from Profiles in Courageousness. If you enjoy this blog, you're going to want to pick up your copy today.]
At this point, I was feeling toxic. Nobody wanted to talk to me and I just wanted a giant hole to swallow me up. What had I gotten myself into? My only friend was in the other party and his play in the NFL gave me absolutely no confidence in our relationship. When the moment finally came for us to take a short break, I welcomed it. I did what I did back in California when times were tough; I headed outside to be alone with my thoughts, or as alone as I could be on Capitol Hill.
As I stood on the porch, lost in my own thoughts, I failed to notice a woman approaching me. She was a raven-haired goddess, her black and white checkered shawl covering her simple black dress, but her conservative attire did nothing to hide the fact that this was a woman. Her perfume had hints of lilac and gardenia with just a small note of russet potato. I have always remained reasonably faithful to my wife, but I admit at that
