Dead Thatcher

Let me take you back to a simpler time, a time when Washington DC was a bubbling cauldron of scorching heat. A time of the summer of 1986 when I was employed as a bellhop at the Washington Premier Hotel. The Washington Premier Hotel was a magnificent paean to the wealthy elite and bragged to all that, unlike the “Watergate Hotel” no burglaries there had ever been successfully attempted or not attempted.  Who did I see but none other than the Great Margaret Thatcher walking with her entourage into the lobby? Unfortunately for me, I was tired from the night before trying to create a mixed-tape on a Sony recorder.  When Mrs. Thatcher asked me to get her bags, I ill-advisedly answered, “Hey, you’re the Iron Lady, you carry your own bags.” Oops. Probably not the best thing to say to a visiting dignitary and Head of State. That summer was great afterwards working at Shakey’s Pizza.  Yet another reason to hate England.