Posted on 07/30/2009 2:00:33 PM PDT by Nachum
Four of the most powerful business leaders in America arrived at the White House one day last month for lunch with President Barack Obama, sitting down in his private dining room just steps from the Oval Office.
But even for powerful CEOs, there’s no such thing as a free lunch: White House staffers collected credit card numbers for each executive, and carefully billed them for the cost of the meal with the president.
(Excerpt) Read more at politico.com ...
But I thought hospitality to strangers was part of the Muslim faith? Him Imam will be pissed,,,
What a schmuck, this guy is the worst.
Tackiest White House EVER! And I thought Hillary was bad . . .
Combine “Union” and “Acorn” and you get “Unicorn”
- JP
Sticking it to the White Man! /sarc
He's the Budd Lite guy, the "You should know who I am" alleged professor is the "Blue Moon guy"
I wish I was bartending that event, I'd sit my bare ass on a block of ice for about 20 minutes then walk out, drop my trousers and say to the Prof "Here's your damn Blue Moon".........
I’m sure when the ACORN crowd comes in, they pay for THEIR lunches (out of taxpayer funds, which included about $4 billion in the Porkulus package).
I hope the CEOs sent Obama a bill for their time.
This shows 0bama’s hatred for business, and his obsession with taking money from those who produce and giving it to those who don’t produce.
Usually, it’s the other way around. Gov’t employees pay for thier own lunch when visiting contractors like Boeing.
Flown around New York City on a private photo opp on Air Force 1 ?
What a hypocrite!
I wish he’d keep busy dating every night in New York. It would probably be cheaper than the alternative.
.....But I guess Obama doesn’t have that kind of class.....
Of course not.
I suppose the intent of all this is convince us how so very responsible Obama is when it comes to our money.
I’m not.
What’s really stupid is giving your Visa card number to a government employee, especially one working at the White House. Man, I’d cancel those cards in a heartbeat!
Dinner with Hussein Obama:
Once upon a time, I was invited to the White House for a private dinner with the President. I am a respected businessman, with a factory that produces memory chips for computers and portable electronics. There was some talk that my industry was being scrutinized by the administration, but I paid it no mind. I live in a free country. There’s nothing that the government can do to me if I’ve broken no laws. My wealth was earned honestly, and an invitation to dinner with an American President is an honor.
I checked my coat, was greeted by the Chief of Staff, and joined the President in a yellow dining room.
We sat across from each other at a table draped in white linen. The Great Seal was embossed on the china. Uniformed staff served our dinner.
The meal was served, and I was startled when my waiter suddenly reached out, plucked a dinner roll off my plate, and began nibbling it as he walked back to the kitchen.
“Sorry about that,” said the President. “Andrew is very hungry.”
“I don’t appreciate...” I began, but as I looked into the calm brown eyes across from me, I felt immediately guilty and petty.. It was just a dinner roll.
“Of course,” I concluded, and reached for my glass. Before I could, however, another waiter reached forward, took the glass away and swallowed the wine in a single gulp.
“And his brother Eric is very thirsty.” said the President.
I didn’t say anything. The President is testing my compassion, I thought. I will play along. I don’t want to seem unkind.
My plate was whisked away before I had tasted a bite.
“Eric’s children are also quite hungry.”
With a lurch, I crashed to the floor. My chair had been pulled out from under me. I stood, brushing myself off angrily, and watched as it was carried from the room.
“And their grandmother can’t stand for long.”
I excused myself, smiling outwardly, but inside feeling like a fool.
Obviously I had been invited to the White House to be sport for some game. I reached for my coat, to find that it had been taken. I turned back to the President.
“Their grandfather doesn’t like the cold.”
I wanted to shout - that was my coat! But again, I looked at the placid smiling face of my host and decided I was being a poor sport. I spread my hands helplessly and chuckled. Then I felt my hip pocket and realized my wallet was gone. I excused myself and walked to a phone on an elegant side table. I learned shortly that my credit cards had been maxed out, my bank accounts emptied, my retirement and equity portfolios had vanished, and my wife had been thrown out of our home. Apparently, the waiters and their families were moving in. The President hadn’t moved or spoken as I learned all this, but finally I lowered the phone into its cradle and turned to face him.
“Andrew’s whole family has made bad financial decisions. They haven’t planned for retirement, and they need a house. They recently defaulted on a subprime mortgage. I told them they could have your home. They need it more than you do.”
My hands were shaking. I felt faint. I stumbled back to the table and knelt on the floor. The President cheerfully cut his meat, ate his steak and drank his wine.
I lowered my eyes and stared at the small grey circles on the tablecloth that were water drops.
“By the way,” he added, “I have just signed an Executive Order nationalizing your factories. I’m firing you as head of your business. I’ll be operating the firm now for the benefit of all mankind. There’s a whole bunch of Erics and Andrews out there and they can’t come to you for jobs groveling like beggars.”
I looked up. The President dropped his spoon into the empty ramekin which had been his crème Brule. He drained the last drops of his wine.
As the table was cleared, he lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair. He stared at me. I clung to the edge of the table as if were a ledge and I were a man hanging over an abyss. I thought of the years behind me, of the life I had lived. The life I had earned with a lifetime of work, risk and struggle. Why was I punished? How had I allowed it to be taken? What game had I played and lost? I looked across the table and noticed with some surprise that there was no game board between us.
What had I done wrong?
As if answering the unspoken thought, the President suddenly cocked his head, locked his empty eyes to mine, and bared a million teeth, chuckling wryly as he folded his hands.
“You should have stopped me at the dinner roll,” he said.
Yea but dumbass can go bill the taxpayers for $100,000 date in NY.
Miss Cheapo smiles. :)
Isn’t that the SOP if you go out to lunch with a Rep/Sen? They can’t buy you lunch or so I’ve heard.
I'd be a little worried with that crew having access to my credit card number, too.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.