B J Jones the Story of My LifeChapter 373
It was four when the finger food and socializing petered out. I had shaken the hands of more Senators, Representatives and VIP’s than I would ever be able to remember. The green carts carried us back to the Suburbans. I walked to driver’s side only to be stopped by Marcy. “No you don’t; Ambassadors don’t drive, they get driven. Get your butt in the back seat and don’t forget to buckle up.” Never argue with Marcy when she is that direct; you are not going to win. The General walked up, “I...