My trip to the Giuliani headquarters with Taylor was unsuccessful, yet eventful. The passenger van and two Escalades out front were indicative of something unusual afoot. We entered and spoke to two sharply dressed, confused twenty-somethings who informed us that the Mayor himself was in a meeting and about to head to a speech, and that there would be no one in the office to respond to our suspicious inquiries. Being a shaggy-haired college student in a Republican campaign office is like the first day of middle school; everyone looks at you funny and nobody wants to be friends. It seemed to me that our friends in the Grand Old Party were a bit distrustful of our stated intentions, and may have been more accommodating had we donned well-pressed suits with pin stripes. Feeling despondent and dejected, we decided to wait outside in what was quickly becoming a sadistically humid and sweltering day, hoping to at least get a photo with the candidate to serve as defense of our unique situation. Rudy was running about an hour late apparently, and we were going to have to be quick. Apparent big wigs with good grooming, beaming, sauntered past us after confused and awkward glances, and then Mr. Giuliani himself. “Mr. Mayor,” I pleaded, “could we get a couple pictures real quick?” Unenthused, he complied while his aides reminded us what super big hurry this super important gentleman was in. The photos were snapped without incident, and that concluded my visit with Rudy Giuliani.