President Obama: I’m Taking a Gap Year

Barack Obama Playing Golf

This letter was received by the Robot Butt staff this week.

It’s finally here. I can’t believe I only have six more months of having to pretend like I still care. After all I’ve done for this great country, and they thank me with the possibility of an orange-faced, tiny-handed man child. It’s not good. I can’t trouble myself with this job any longer. Malia had the brilliant idea of taking a gap year before college, and I think she just might be on to something here. Six more months and I’m free. It will be the official Obama gap year.

I think I’ll start with having a bacon-wrapped steak. Michelle won’t have a garden for at least a year, so Barry’s gonna have some beef. Beef for days. Michelle can’t stop me now.

For the last seven years I’ve been craving a nice long drag from a cigarette. Sure, I’ve tried to sneak one a time or two, but it never works out with all of that Secret Service hovering. Now time to smoke in piece. Maybe I’ll get a pipe. That seems pretty dapper. It can’t be worse for my health than being President has been.

How much golf is too much golf? Two rounds a day, 365 days in a year. I think I can do it.

I can finally change my phone number. No more late-night phone calls from Joe asking if I’m watching SpongeBob. No, Joe, I’m the president. Clearly I’m watching South Park.

My bathroom breaks will finally go unquestioned. No more Fox News saying “There he goes again. Secret Muslim off to pray.” Sorry guys, I just drink a lot of water. But thanks for pointing out my regularity.

No more suits, either. Maybe this gap year will be a no-pants year, too. I can just wear a robe all day and lounge around like Hugh Hefner. Maybe I’ll get a silk robe. That’ll be nice and soft against the skin. Not gonna lie, I look good in a robe.

On non-robe days, when it’s an absolute necessity, I can finally get back to my jeans. Everybody makes fun of my jeans, saying I wear “dad jeans.” That’s not the case. They’re comfortable and relaxed fit. Sure, I wear them a little high, but I don’t want anybody to see my confidential briefs.

I’ll finally have some time to play basketball again. Kobe’s not working anymore; maybe he’ll be up for some one-on-one. Just like Congress, he never passes anything and has been injury-plagued for years. I can take him. Executive order for the win. If that doesn’t work, maybe I can just buy an NBA team.

I wonder if they will let me keep a drone. I’ve become quite fond of flying those things all over the place. Best birthday present from the NSA.

I keep hearing about this whole “Netflix and chill.” Maybe I’ll see what that’s all about. I hear that Kimmy Schmidt is a delight. I asked Michelle about trying it the other night – she told me she was too tired and was going to sleep. Her loss. I’ll just Netflix and chill by myself. I still need to finish House of Cards anyway.

I’m done with the Blackberry. Time for Obama to get an iPhone. I can finally try out those Angry Birds. I don’t want that U2 album, though. Maybe they can get me some Jay Z instead.

Sasha still has time left in high school here in DC. We will be living just a few miles away. I could always take the next step in my career and become PTA President. I’ve got the experience and the jeans for it. With all of this free time, I’m sure Sasha will be happy to see more of me around the school.

Yep, it will be a nice year, free from politics. No more meetings, pretending to like Mitch McConnell, reading to stupid kids sitting on my lawn, pardoning a turkey – it’s all over. I also won’t have to care about all of those teams that come to the White House. Sure, I love my sports teams, but do you really think I care about the Denver Broncos or Peyton Manning? I’m a free man after this. I’ll have so much time off to do nothing people will think I’m actually part of Congress now.

Life will be like a summer break during high school. If I would’ve known all of these luxuries would be taken away, I never would have become President in the first place.

Malia was right. She needs a gap year and so do I. It’s time for a break. Six more months and the official Obama gap year begins. Get ready!



Tim Drake

Author: Tim Drake

Tim Drake is a writer, director and actor currently balancing life between Salt Lake City and Los Angeles. Tim studied comedy writing with The Second City and hosts the comedy and entertainment podcast 'On the Mic with Tim Drake'. Follow Tim on Twitter @timdrake.

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