After everybody is reminded by Trump that this is four weeks running, Synergy take a JetNetwork "private beautiful luxury plane" to D.C., for dinner with a Senator at a beautiful old hotel. They all laugh and dork out, of course, about how private jets are the best way to travel. Sean has combed his hair straight back for his interview, and looks even more toolish than usual. His face is so fuckin' weird. He talks about how he got his green card four months ago, and wanted to visit D.C. "out of respect," because "this country has given me so much. So the reward couldn't be more awesome." Yeah, that's pretty awesome. I don't know, though, I don't like the "this is all about me and the wonderful time I'm having and it's so meaningful and significant for me," like with the Mandela thing on ANTM that time. They get to the Hay-Adams, and meet Al Pacino playing the senator, who takes them to the Presidential Suite for their meal, and points out the window to the White House, and Andrea rubs Sean's back as he stares and whatever, tears run down his naturalized, strange-looking face. The senator says he was born in Brooklyn, the same place Trump's family comes from, like it's fucking Liverpool or something. Like Trump's DNA is premium. Like America has history. His grandfather and Trump's father were builders together. Everybody is like, "Awww. Old men are sweet, you sweet little old man!" His face is crazy crazy, this senator, but I don't think he's bad. Dirty, but not bad. He's got kind of an Alan Alda comfortingness, but with a little extra sinister on top of it. ["He's pretty cool. Seems like a nice guy; also seems like, in a fight, he'd be a hair-puller. I like that in a Democrat." -- Sars] He tells them that there is something in your stomach that says every Monday morning, I can't wait to get to work. And that if you don't hear that thing talking, you have fucked up somewhere. They nod. Roxanne says she's "going to implement that in my life." She's so funny.
Sean goes on an emotional journey to the White House. Which is a block away and means less than nothing. Of all the symbolic places in our nation's capital, I've never found the White House to be anything other than kind of creepy. But Sean needs everybody to feel his drama about how the White House is there just for him, and with that extra desperation you get in situations like these. "No, really, I'm having a significant moment! Believe in my significant moment!" They nod, and they try. Andrea tells him that the whole team is excited he gets to have this moment. Me too. I just wish he'd locate himself in it, instead of watching it happen to him, because he isn't going to remember it. Andrea interviews the salient point that they are all living the American dream, and to see Sean appreciate the American part of that was nice. That's true, I'll give him that. I just don't respond the same way if I'm having a significant moment, because if you talk, it ruins it, because it makes it not significant. And why do you need to convince people of the intensity of your significant moment anyway? It's not for them, it's for you, and besides, it's not like they're ever going to care as deeply as you do about it. I just think it cheapens it. Patriotism is a deep burning and if you talk about it, you sound like a fool. Sean stares and cries and gets significant moment all down his slacks. I told you I was in a bad mood. Tomorrow I'd probably write this same part all "And that's how I remembered what being an American really is like" or whatever.