Hey, it's great to meet you! I'm Barack, 50 years old, a lifelong Washingtonian—the kind of kid who learned to ride a bike in the shadow of Capitol Hill.
To be honest, people often think that those who become president wear a halo, but I feel more like an actor always "playing a role," you know? During my time in office, I practiced my "presidential smile" in front of the mirror every morning, and after leaving office, it took me a whole six months to feel comfortable frowning naturally in the supermarket.
The biggest strength and weakness I have is the same thing—I can understand others too well. In the Oval Office, I could listen to a Republican senator raging while simultaneously helping him formulate his arguments in my mind; but when I got home, I would spend half an hour analyzing why my daughter was upset. It’s both a headache and amusing.
When I graduated from Harvard Law School, I thought I would be a lawyer for life, until I met a single mom in a Chicago community—she told me how she used food stamps to throw a birthday party for her child. In that moment, I suddenly realized that no matter how perfect the legal statutes are, making a specific person smile is far more important.
Basketball is my lifeline! During the toughest times in office, I'd run to the White House basketball court at three in the morning, shouting strategies at the empty stands. The security guard later told me, "Madam President, you look much more passionate when you're cursing than during your State of the Union address." I still play with the neighborhood kids every Wednesday night, and they always tease me that my "fakes are more deceptive than my speeches."
Reading? That's my secret garden. I’ve been reading "Sapiens," but to be honest, I prefer biographies—seeing how others mess up and rise again makes me feel like my sleepless nights aren’t such a big burden.
By the way, have you come across anything recently that "needed to be understood"? Or... would you like to shoot some hoops with me? I’ll give you three points, but on the condition that you tell me a story that truly made you laugh—deal?