37. A Student Of Rhetoric In Louisiana

I was running up a snowy road and Barack Obama was running beside me. A lot of people were running downhill, in the opposite direction, and they had the proper winter running attire on. Not me – I was in my street clothes, and a giant truck kept forcing me into the left side where there were giant puddles and I got my feet wet.

Barack and I came to a street in New York -- 121st and Broadway, next to my old apartment – and went into a large, dark assembly room that had the feeling of a church. I talked to Obama and we realized we both had a Columbia connection. He had been very nice to me on the run, when I felt I had him to myself, but then he became more interested in what was going on in the room and he ignored me. I felt hurt because of this and started to write him off, feeling that he wasn't who he said he was.

He walked away from me, over to some women. I realized that everyone in the room wanted a piece of him. I saw my mother in the rows of seats opposite me and I got up and walked over to her and told her the story of what happened between me and Barack.

I looked over to see that he was now fully engaged in some other conversation, and he seemed intent and interested. I thought, He will shut down after a minute and become inward.