The American Spectator

Personally, I have my own way of celebrating freedom — with a nice spinach and cheese calzone. So immediately after the speech I beat a path over to Union Station, which on the outside was entirely mobbed by folks trying to get on the Metro. I only wanted to get to the food court, so I slipped under the red velvet rope line, and, followed by several Asian tourists, entered Union Station itself, which was completely and eerily empty. We almost made it to the escalator before cops came out of the woodwork, surrounding us, yelling.

“This is a high security area,” one SWAT-team looking guard shouted at me. “We’re talking serious security.”

Maybe so. If it is, the government might want to hire me as a consultant, since I was able to breach “serious security” with a crack team of Asian tourists snapping pictures the entire way. Instead of a job offer, though, I was just booted out of the building unceremoniously, where I got into line with everyone else, and, after a small delay, got my calzone just the same.

And, despite all the hassles, I have to say: Freedom tasted pretty darn good that day.