"Nice to meet you."
Offered a cigarette, wife said, "We quit really." Husband grimaced.
"What are you doing out here?"
"We just said goodbye to Viktor."
Shivers for the lightweight, not warm, professional clothing.
"I'm a little overwhelmed myself," George admitted.
"It's a lot to take on," his wife supported.
"Yeah, I'll say. Especially now that the FCC stuff is coming up. I think since most people don't really ever think about broadcasting, they're freaked out about licensing."
"Prob'ly true."
"Then it's more grist for the rumormill. Thing that gets me about it all is that no one's wanting to put the quash on rock and roll, but when a Rolling Stones' tune comes in over landing cargo plane speakers in the fog, it kinda sucks."
"I bet." The husband took a pager number down on a little memo notebook page rested on his wife's arm. "We're gonna need to call back."
"There's phones set up in the
Together they made way back into the orbit of the White House.
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