Humphrey in '08

I was sitting in a coffee shop reading up on current events in Uzbekistan when a man approached me:

"I saw Hubert Humphrey at a hole in the wall restaurant in Chinatown."

He left me a picture and directions to the restaurant. I went to protest, but he was gone. I finished the article I was reading, and hopped on the T. I had nothing better to do that day, so I figured I'd see what this Hubert Humphrey business was all about.

Sure enough, he was sitting in the restaurant, eating a pu-pu platter. I sat down across from him and helped myself to a crab rangoon.

"My God, you look exactly like Humbert Humphrey."

"That's because I am. I've come back to run for president as a Democrat in 2008. In fact, I could use a man of your talents in my campaign. What d'you say? You want in?"

I hesitated.

"C'mon, I'll be your best friend."

An image flashed in my head of me and Hubert Humphrey riding a tandom bicycle, ringing a little bell and waving to Mads, my Norwegian companion. Mads looks away, one single tear falling down his cheek.

"How about this, Double H: I'll help on your campaign, but I won't be your best friend?"

"Deal."