February 24, 2006
I haven't had much luck in the romance department lately, so I was thrilled to receive an invitation to visit probably the sexiest and smartest politician in the world, Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez! Evidently, when things didn't work out with Peace Mother Sheehan, she told him about me and the rest is history. Imagine my surprise when I learned President Chavez's best friend and the all-time greatest freedom fighter ever, Fidel Castro, would also be visiting! I was so excited, I just about peed myself! I was off the next day.
After arriving in Caracas, I was chauffeured to Miraflores, the presidential palace. Wow, that place is really nice! Except for the old appliances, rusted cars on blocks, and chickens out front, it looked just like I imagined a palace should look. I was shown to the "Belafonte Suite," and informed that dinner with the president and his royal guest would be at seven p.m.
I entered the grandiose dining room and there before me were the two most enlightened leaders of our time, politely standing as I was seated across from them. Both men were extremely handsome in their military outfits, each festooned with colorful ribbons and lots of gleaming medals. I happened to notice the word "Typing" on one of President Chavez's medals, and "Backstroke" on another. Wow. Both men insisted I call them by their first names and dinner went from formal to friendly very quickly.
Although I don't speak Spanish, Fidel's interpreter did a great job communicating our thoughts and the three of us had a lively discussion. After several glasses of champagne, we were having the best time! Hugo was hilarious as he put a slice of black olive on his front teeth and did a killer impersonation of Condi Rice. Later, he and Fidel recounted the wonderful moments they had enjoyed with many of Hollywood's most famous people. I was starstruck! I also couldn't help but notice the way Hugo was devouring me with his smoldering dark eyes.
Finally, with dinner over, I got up to leave and noticed a folded piece of paper on the floor under the table. Once back in my room, I opened it and read, "My darling, how I long for your touch. I'll see you in my room later." It was signed "Huggy." My head was spinning as I had a vision of myself waving to admiring crowds from the palace balcony just like Madonna in "Evita." "Presidential wife Peace Chavez" - I liked the sound of that!
Around eleven, I left in search for Huggy's room with my heart beating like a jackhammer. As I approached a door at the end of the hallway I heard soft music and knew I was at the right place. I quietly slipped inside the bedroom. Once my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw something that burned itself into my memory like a laser beam from hell. There was Hugo dressed in a thong and high heels, being ridden around the room by Fidel, who was clad only in his underwear, combat boots, and a little pink cowboy hat! I think that may have been a cigar in his hand but I'm not absolutely sure, and sure as heck wasn't going to hang around to find out. I ran back to my room and took three hot showers before I felt clean.
Look, I'm as liberal as anyone and really enjoyed "Brokeback Mountain," but there was something about that scene that was just so very, very wrong. How could I be so naive to believe Hugo would be attracted to me, when he could embrace (and caress, etc.) larger leftist things with that Commie stud, El Presidente?
I hate men. I'm going home.