An unknown man in his underwear walked through a live TV interview on right-wing network Newsmax, which featured the network’s anchor Rob Schmitt and conservative political commentator, Dick Morris.

“CHARLIE, OR HOW MEN TALK ABOUT WOMEN” by DJS

So I put more work into this one. Hope it shows. Special thanks to the podcast Slow Burn for the inspiration.

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(November 1995. Late night, White House cafeteria. The place is empty and mostly dark. Bill Clinton, 42nd President of the United States, sits eating a cold slice of cheese pizza, washing it down with a can of Pepsi, the rest of the pizza along with a file on the table next to him. He is alone. Enter Dick Morris, political advisor.)

Clinton: Well if it ain’t “Charlie”. Back from the wars.

Dick: Mister President.

Clinton: (taps file with greasy pizza finger) So camping, huh? They want me to go camping, ‘stead of play golf. Think golf is too what, snooty or something? “How I spent my summer vacation” —

Dick: Mister President, you asked me to put the poll in the field.

Clinton: But I like golfing, it relaxes me. Don’t got a handicap for shit, but—

Dick: Well then, you’ll just have to wait, won’t you sir? I mean, plenty of time after you leave office.

Clinton: Oh, in that case only next year—

Dick: Come on, now don't. You know you’re gonna win re-election—  

Clinton: Think so, do ya? After I just got my ass handed to me in the midterms?  

Dick: A setback.

Clinton: More’n a setback, Dick. That son of a bitch Gingrich is calling it a mandate on my policies, that I just got my BUTT SPANKED by the American people! You know a Republican hasn’t been Speaker of the House since the fifties? Now what is that?!

Dick: I’m a Republican.

Clinton: And you’d make a shitty speaker of the house, don’t get my started.

Dick: Go camping, Mister President. Show ‘em what a down to earth guy you are.

Clinton: Mosquitoes biting the hell out of your arms and ankles. And you can never get the damn tent put up right, takes half the damn day.

Dick: Think the Secret Service could help with that.

Clinton: (re pizza) You want a piece of this? It’s cold but—

Dick: No thank you sir, I already ate.

Clinton: (big bite) “Already ate...” What are you counting calories now? You on Weight Watchers? It’s called a midnight snack, it DOESN’T COUNT. Just go jogging like I do. (Wipes his mouth with a napkin. Pause)

Dick: So what’s going on, sir?

Clinton: What do you mean? Nothing.

Dick: Okay.

Clinton: Nothing. Just hungry.

Dick: Sure you’re not tired?

Clinton: ‘Course I’m tired, it’s one AM.

Dick: I know the hour, sir, but it’s the only time you seem to wanna meet with me. I tell ya, it makes a guy feel kind of special, sneaking him in, “under the cover of darkness” and whatnot. Though paradoxically one might come to the conclusion you’re embarrassed of me.  

Clinton: Don’t inflate yourself, Dick. You know it’s just ‘cause George and those guys don’t like me consulting with you. But can I help it if we’re old friends, that I VALUE your opinion? That a DISSENTING VOICE every now and then might actually be a GOOD thing?

Dick: Aww, sir. Well that warms my heart to hear you say that, bastard stepchild that I am. (Beat) So you really don’t wanna let me in on what’s going on?

Clinton: Jesus, I already said, nothing! Why do you gotta keep hounding me?

Dick: Well, a couple reasons sir. One you don’t like wasting people’s time, so if there was nothing else, you’d just tell me to go on home and call it a night—

Clinton: Christ, go home, who’s stopping ya?

Dick: (continuing over) --which I’d be more than obliged to do, only the second thing is, I know you of course.

Clinton: What do you mean you KNOW me? Like you can read my mind? Get out of here!  

Dick: My mistake then, Mister President. Goodnight, sir. (Turns to leave)

Clinton: WAIT, DICK.

Dick: (pause) Yes sir?

Clinton: No, just...hold on a minute.

Dick: Will do.  

(He waits. Silence. Clinton sips his Pepsi. Then)

Clinton: Something...something happened.  

Dick: When?

Clinton: Today. Tonight.

Dick: Oh yeah?

Clinton: Yeah, I—I met someone.

Dick: Girl? (Clinton nods) Who is she?

Clinton: She’s uh...well I guess you’d call her an intern.

Dick: In the White House?

Clinton: Of course in the White House! What do you think?

Dick: I don’t know, sir. You get around.

Clinton: (a small chuckle) Heh, yeah, spose I do. (Pause) Anyway.

Dick: So, an intern. Where’d you meet?

Clinton: Leon’s office, she’s working out of Leon’s office—for the moment. Ever since the damn shutdown, you know, with the regular staff being furloughed and all—you know?

Dick: I know.

Clinton: Well there’s been an influx of em. Unpaid.

Dick: Free labor.

Clinton: Lots, yeah. Most of them young...just graduated college. (Pause) But men and women, you know?  

Dick: What’s her name?

Clinton: (pause) I don’t know if I want to tell you that yet.

Dick: Then tell me what happened.

Clinton: Well, I went in there, to see Leon, you know, for something, and I don’t know if she noticed me first or I noticed her, but she’s just standing there, this young girl. So I introduced myself.  

Dick: As if such a thing was necessary.

Clinton: Well, yeah but, you know, for formality’s sake... (Dick nods) So I asked if this was her first day, and she said no, she had started earlier in the week, but it was all still pretty new, you know? Just real sweet. I asked where she was from.

Dick: Small talk.

Clinton: Chit-chat, yeah. Getting to know you stuff.

Dick: Then what?

Clinton: Then...that was it. I went back to the Oval. (Pause) Till later.

Dick: Later?

Clinton: Little bit later, yeah. I found an excuse to pop back in. Leon was I don’t know where, in a meeting or something.

Dick: Makes sense.  

Clinton: She was doing some filing, just standing by a file cabinet. Round the corner from the door, so you couldn’t see from the hallway...unless you stuck head all the way in.

Dick: Convenient.  

Clinton: So I go over to her, you know? Ask how she’s doing, how her first week is going, anyone giving her any trouble. She says no, in fact everyone’s been real nice, maybe a little stressed with the shutdown, she’s knows that’s, that we’ve all got that on our minds, and how we can end it, but overall still very welcoming despite that.  

Dick: A very personable young woman it sounds like.

Clinton: Complimentary, too. She said how it was just so exciting to be around such important people, with an important job to do. (Pause) Then she, she did this thing. I don’t even know how to describe it. She kind of gave me a look, this playful look like DID I WANT TO SEE SOMETHING, and I must have given her a look back like a smile or something that said SURE, I CAN PLAY ALONG. So with this same playful bordering-on-mischievous little kind of smile of hers, she pulled up her shirt, her blouse, you know...and wouldn’t you believe it but she HAD ON THIS THONG, Dick—I mean sticking right up out her skirt, so you could see it. Black, this black string thong, you know, like from Frederick’s of Hollywood, Victoria’s Secret, one of them catalogues. And you know I been around, seen my fair share of...what’s out there. I’m not an easy man to surprise...that way. But to be so direct about it, so confident—to come right TO THE POINT...hell, I think I mighta even blushed, Dick. (Pause)

Dick: Wow. If I may say, sir—

Clinton: But it wasn’t over yet.

Dick: It wasn’t?

Clinton: No, I—I excused myself, after thanking her, and maybe we would bump into each other again later. If she was working late. None of this was planned, you see.

Dick: Yes, sir.

Clinton: And well, you know, you never know what the rest of the day is gonna look like, but just as it happens later that night I’m coming down the hall and she’s coming the other way and as we get closer to each other I sort of motion her to this office no one’s in, it’s dark and we duck in and I, I close the door and the first thing I ask is, you know, if she likes me, which I already have a pretty good feeling about, but she confirms it, looking up at me she says she’s had a crush on me for a long time, she thinks I’m really handsome, from seeing me on TV and, and likes my suits, and I say how I know we just met but I have a feeling I could like her too, that I liked her right off, and I ask if I can kiss her, and she says yes. So we kiss. (Pause) We kissed. And it was very sweet, and very innocent, and I would even use the word chaste to describe it, like we were teenagers or something and this was our first date—which I guess, you know, it was.

Dick: Sounds like quite a night, sir.

Clinton: Haven’t gotten to the best part.

Dick: Oh? Well...

Clinton: We meet up again later. No pretense anymore. It’s late, everyone’s gone home by now—I mean, Betty’s still there but [what’s she gonna do?]—so I invite her to my private office. And it’s like it’s just us alone together in this whole big building. It seems so small and quiet. And she looks up at me—big eyes, glassy, maybe she was crying, I don’t know. But before I can think about it...  

(He trails off. Long pause)

Dick: Well, that’s some story, Mister President.

Clinton: I know. I know. What am I gonna do, Dick? I can’t keep seeing this girl! But I want to!

Dick: ‘Course you want to. You’re only a man.

Clinton: She gave me her number.

Dick: Stands to reason.

Clinton: I don’t know, maybe if things were going better with Hillary—

Dick: The question is how much do you trust your security detail. Because IF—and this is a big if—but IF you were going to continue to see this girl, it would really fall under their purview. They’d be your first line of defense.

Clinton: You’re talking about actually having an affair?

Dick: Why not? Your hero JFK did it.

Clinton: But that was a different time! And even then he barely got away with it; everybody knew! And besides haven’t we had enough problems, enough scandals already, what with Travel Gate and White Water, and Vince Foster going and killing himself over nothing!—and that bastard Ken Starr breathing down my neck!  

Dick: All good points, sir.

Clinton: I can’t, Dick, there’s no way. It would be putting too much in jeopardy. And with the election next year—  

Dick: Say no more.

(Silence)

Clinton: It would be nice though, wouldn’t it? Like a breath of fresh air.  

Dick: We can’t always get what we want.

Clinton: Rolling Stones.  

Dick: Yes sir.

Clinton: Mick Jagger. You know I met him once?  

Dick: No sir, I didn’t.

Clinton: Yeah, back during the campaign, at a stop in Chicago I think. They were on tour. Now there’s a guy who could get any woman he wants, and not have to worry a lick. (Shaking his head) Rock stars, boy.

Dick: You know, politicians have their groupies too, sir. I think we can agree this is a bullet best dodged.  

Clinton: No. No. That’s just it. This was the real thing.

(Beat)

Dick: Go camping, Mister President.

Clinton: Yeah. (Pause) Yeah. Thank you, Dick. For everything, the advice and— (Holds up file) These numbers. You’re a good friend.

Dick: My pleasure, sir, anytime. And it’s “Charlie” remember?  

Clinton: “Charlie” right. Heh.  

Dick: I mean, cool codename, might as well use it.

Clinton: Yeah.

Dick: Well, goodnight, sir.  

Clinton: G’night. (Dick starts to exit) Hey Dick, fore you go—the Secret Service. They get you in and out pretty easy, right? No questions?

Dick: Sir?  

(Pause)