Let me start at the beginning. Presidential feel-copping aside, I had a freakin' GREAT night. Really. Usually, at these reception-type events, press tags say **MEDIA** and you're avoided like a leper with the plague.

But I showed up last night and picked up my tag - just my name and the event on it, like everyone else. Excellent. The event was the dedication of a swanky resort's lounge to a local legend, and was scheduled during a fishing tournament in which Bush participated.

[This is where the perks start kicking in. I spent $7 on my first drink, plus $1 for the tip. And that's all, all night. Sometimes, it DOES pay to be media scum.]

I scooped up my glass of champagne for the toast and started beckoning the waiters in my direction so I could pluck appetizers off of their trays. I LOVE appetizers.

I made the aquaintance of a fisherman's wife, and she invited me to sit next to her. We were chatting for a while when she leaned in and whispered, "George Bush is standing right behind you."

And so he was. Weird. The first thing I noticed was that Bush is very, very tall. The second thing I noticed was secret service dudes (younger and cuter than I expected secret service dudes) everywhere. The third thing I noticed was that I was out of champagne. Come here, waiter!

So we did the toast, and there were speeches. Most notably a long, extremely boring one from the daughter of the man being honored. I was a little embarassed for her when she rambled so long the crowd just started talking over her. Whatever, I thought. She's probably just nervous.

Except... I can deal with someone saying "Hall of Fames" once. But twice, in a public speech? Call me the grammar wench, but that's just unacceptable.

Bygones. After the dedication was dinner. Everyone kind of backed off Bush for a moment, so I seized the opportunity, grabbed my photographer friend, and ran up to the former prez.

I introduced myself and shook his hand. He announced, "What a beautiful girl!" (Aw, shucks.) He put his arm around me. We posed for a picture. Then, he kind of patted the very top of my butt and said, "OK, we got it!" That was it.

Hee!

Now people were starting to head down to the high-class ho-down-themed BBQ buffet. I grabbed another glass of champagne and considered my options. See, the rest of the media was booking it out of there. While I had an "invite," it's a little taboo for press types to mooch TOO much.

But then I noticed, I didn't really LOOK like a reporter. I was dressed up, and not carrying a camera or notepad. At that point, I began to smell the BBQ and drool a little. My stomach took over and started making my decisions. And really... I could just sit out of the way, chow down, and blend, right?

So I grabbed a plate, and when deciding where to sit, noticed this lady with a Texan accent sitting all alone, saving a couple of seats. Ah ha! Out of towner. She won't know anyone, and will be glad for the company.

So I sat down, introduced myself, and dug into some ribs. The next thing I new, she was calling the name of the resort's general manager, and I realized who she was saving the seats for.

Shit! We all introduced ourselves, and his fabulous wife sat next to me. The manager and his wife both have very thick German accents, and she's very severe looking. I just chowed away quietly, chuckled in the right places, and began to think I wasn't busted after all until the Texas lady asked, "So what do you do, Jamie?"

I had to fess up. And while the Manager looked a little startled, he didn't act like a dick about my staying or anything.

In fact, the entire table ended up having a really great time.

The DJ was playing country music, and I think my favorite part of dinner is when the Manager's wife leaned over to me and said, "You know what my favorite country song is?"

"No, what?"

She then says, in her incredibly thick German accent, "All My Exes Live In Texas."

I thought I was going to explode, I giggled so hard. What a wierd, great group of people.

And I'll give you this tip: If you want to get truly excellent service from resort staff, sit at the same table as the resort's general manager.

Free drinks? Sure! Coffee? Can I take your plate? Water a little low? Here you go! Can I get you ANYTHING else?

Ah, what a night. The Manager's wife and I are meeting for lunch in the future.

A former U.S. President called me "beautiful." Now, that's never a bad night.