Suddenly, Strupp and I were accosted by security folks, including a woman who claimed she was from the Secret Service, while our intern somehow slipped away, with a guard in hot pursuit. Our credentials were seized and we were threatened with a real grilling--waterboarding, perhaps?--before being marched out of the hall by NYPD cops.
Funniest thing--on the way out, who do we see coming our way down a corridor but--the fugitive intern. We laughed as he passed, without incident, and the cops never did catch on. We were so dangerous they marched us out of the building, and all the way across 7th Avenue.
The next day I used a ticket to sit up in the press section for Bush's acceptance speech, unhassled. Below, hundreds of delegates were smashing sandals together relentlessly--you remember, to signify that John Kerry was a "flip-flopper." A fellow anti-war type about 20 yards from me stood up and started chanting and was dragged out. Then it got so dull I simply walked out. Without an escort, this time.
The intern? He had sneaked in, climbed to the top of the press photographers' scaffold, and took some photos of Dick Cheney that we posted on our site the next day. Still at large, he covered the Democratic convention for us four years later, and somehow talked his way into the first five rows for Obama's acceptance speech in the stadium. Ah, but I digress...
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