barney%20frank.jpgWe’ve been having a somewhat slow afternoon around here, so we’ll reach into our mailbag for some evergreen material: a Barney Frank anecdote.

Barney Frank may be gone from Congressional Catfight, but he has not been forgotten in these quarters. To the contrary, our correspondent this afternoon remembers his interactions with Congressman Frank from many years ago.

You can check out the full story after the jump. But don’t get your hopes too high; it’s pretty G-rated.

(Standard disclaimer: This account could be fictional, as some of you have claimed with respect to yesterday’s “Dustee Tucker at Starbucks” story. But it sounds pretty accurate to us — it’s not hard to imagine Barney Frank hitting on young men.)

Here’s the story, courtesy of an email from one of you:

Several years ago in the early 90’s I up in DC looking for a job. I had come from the Texas where I had done some work for conservative ultra-right wing candidates (they were hiring).

One day I was waiting for the elevator in the Capitol, standing next to me was a really nice man. We struck up a conversation, and when the Members Only elevator arrived he invited me on.

“Members Only” — you can say that again!

We went up to his office and he invited me in and introduced me to the only other person who was in the office — some LA, who excused herself and left.

By this point in the email, we were pretty excited. It was shaping up like some so-bad-it’s-good gay erotica!

Remember I’m from Texas.

We had a nice talk. I was thinking this is a great interview, “I’m gonna get this job”.

Now remember I’m from Texas.

“A nice talk” — that’s it? No hot-and-heavy sex in the office?

Then he asked me to go to dinner, and I accepted. I thought this was how Washington worked.

Remember I’m from Texas.

Okay, we decided to keep reading. Barney wants to take you to dinner first — he’s a classy guy.

During dinner he told me that he did not have a staff position open at that time [Ed. note: SMIRK], but he gave me his card and wrote his home phone number on the back. He also told me that he was “always willing to help a bright young man get ahead in DC.”

We don’t doubt Barney’s interest in helping “a bright young men get [some] head in D.C.”

After dinner I was drinking in this place called the Crow Bar with a frat brother. When I told him the story her told me all about Barney.

It was at that time that I realized that 1. I had been hit on. 2. Picked up. 3. Taken on a date. 4. and propositioned.

Wow, I was the woman.

Our correspondent’s naivete is perfectly charming. It’s like “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” but more gay! (Yes, that’s possible, if just barely.)

Like every tale of an attractive young person who comes to Washington with hopes and dreams — e.g., Monica Lewinsky, Jessica Cutler — this story has a moral:

As I have reflected on this incident over the years, I have decided that overall this was a positive experience. In the end I feel sad for Barney. He is a really nice man, who represents his district to the best of his party’s ability, but he is reduced to cruising the halls of congress looking for ways to feed his sexual appetites.

I also reflect on my own life.

I Left Washington and returned to Texas, where I bounced around through unimportant campaign jobs until my parents got tired of supporting me. Ultimately, I ended up with a teaching job, and as I sit here in my unairconditioned room watching tomorrow’s inmates practice for prison, I wonder where I might be today if I had just BLOWN BARNEY.

Lesson learned (with apologies to Nike): JUST SUCK IT. There’s no more certain way to get your fifteen minutes!

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