An Exclusive Report
4:30 a.m.: Rahm wakes wife and proclaims “I am the mayor of Chicago, bitch!”
5 a.m.: A naked Rahm confronts patrons in the East Bank Club who are afraid to point out that the emperor has no clothes on.
5:30 a.m.: Rahm back home for a breakfast of coal, metal shards, asbestos flakes and milk.
6 a.m.: Rahm is chauffered downtown in a used presidential limo he got Obama to drag out of storage. The vehicle will be known as I’m Number One.
6:30 a.m.: Rahm meets with senior staff, informs them to never write anything down.
7 a.m.: Rahm meets with Mayor Daley, who gives him the nuclear codes and the telephone number for the guy who did the Xs at Meigs Field.
7:30 a.m.: Rahm meets with religious leaders and tells them to tend to the needs of the fucking poor because he’s got his hands full with “real people.”
8 a.m.: Rahm meets with business leaders and discloses the number of his Swiss bank account.
8:30 a.m.: Rahm meets with his media team and tells them to keep reporters away for the next four years or they’ll find themselves dispatched to the water reclamation district.
9 a.m.: Rahm meets with his legal team to reassert his belief that if the mayor does it, it’s not illegal.
9:30 a.m.: Rahm meets with Ed Burke and discloses the number of his Swiss bank accont.
10 a.m.: Rahm holds a not-for-attribution conference call with reporters from The New York Times, The Washington Post, and USA Today describing how he killed Osama bin Laden. “You can attribute ‘It was a double fucking tap between the eyes’ to ‘a senior administration official,'” he says.
10:30 a.m.: Rahm gathers senior staff and challenges any one of them to do more push-ups than him.
11 a.m.: Rahm begins to practice speech but loses interest when the new Divorce Court comes on.
11:30 a.m.: Rahm calls chief of staff into his office and tells her to get rid of this fucking desk because he’s gonna stand all day, like Rumsfeld.
Noon: Rahm gives inauguration speech calling Daley the greatest mayor ever even while proclaiming the city he leaves behind as hopelessly broken. Tries to shift blame to the national economy even as he praises his former boss, the president. Thunders that “The status quo will not do!” before lunching with Joe Berrios and Jim Thompson at Gibson’s.
2 p.m.: Nap.
3 p.m.: Begin plotting next move. Senate? Or right to the presidency?
4 p.m.: Knock off early; it’s been a long day.
5 p.m.: Dinner at home with wife and kids. “How was your day at charter school?”
6 p.m.: Review clout list. “Doesn’t Madigan have enough jobs? Christ!”
7 p.m.: Make prank phone call to Forrest Claypool about train derailments. Chump.
7:30 p.m.: Call David Axelrod, ask him for another word for “layoffs.”
8 p.m.: Commission a poll on first-day approval ratings. Leak results to Sneed.
8:30 p.m.: Start to memorize names of aldermen. Give up, saying “Who the fuck cares? They should memorize me!”
9 p.m.: Start to memorize the names of neighborhoods. Give up, saying “Who the fuck cares? I won’t step foot in most of them until my victory lap when I’m leaving office. And even then, why bother?”
9:30 p.m.: Dodge phone call from Pat Quinn for last time today.
10 p.m.: Prepare for tomorrow’s meeting: How We Will Divvy Up The Spoils.
10:30 p.m.: Read memo from legal team: How To Use Buffers To Avoid Getting Indicted.
11 p.m.: Warm milk, chocolate chip cookies, bed.
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Comments welcome.
Posted on May 16, 2011