Fanny From Omaha Gets An Internship - A Blonde, Blue-Eyed Delight Chuck Schumer Simply Couldn't Resist

Most people think that Chuck Schumer, Senate Minority Leader, is a throbbing bore, a hectoring Democratic whiner who never turns a microphone down, a caviling career politician known only for his opposition - Donald Trump did this nasty bit here, that unwelcome bit there, impeachment bait, unworthy of the office of President of the United States, an anti-democratic, arrogant pretender, etc. etc.; and he might not have an eye for the ladies, but they would be wrong.  He was smitten with Fanny Bevins from Omaha and could never see straight thereafter. 

His aides who knew him better than his constituents, saw that look in his eye and carefully tried to veer him in the opposite direction.  She was not from New York, not Jewish, not urban, and not his type; but they underestimated the hold youth has on the older man and Schumer, while not yet in his dotage, fit the bill for an easy mark.  

This blonde, cornflower blue-eyed young thing was exactly what an old shtetl veteran like him had wanted his whole life.  He was sick and tired of the legions of Leahs, Shoshanas, Esthers, and Rachels who had curried favor with him as he made his way up the political ladder, and he waited in vain for someone as pure, flaxen, and adorable as Fanny from Omaha. 

 

Of course Monica Lewinsky was on the mind of every last one of Schumer's aides - God forbid something like that should happen to a Democrat again - and so it was not surprising that they tried their best to steer their boss away from temptation. 

Now, every older man knows exactly what was going through Chuck's head. They were tired of sleeping next to tangled, leaky, scratchy old women and wanted the fountain of youth, the rejuvenating elixir of young love.  The December-May affair was not simply an oddity, but a necessity; and those who could afford it should never waste the chance of a lifetime. 

'How did the interview go?', asked Schumer's Chief of Staff, his most loyal confidant and trusted adviser who, on this go-round, was adamant about his boss resisting dalliance.  Oh, sure, he could understand what the Senator had in mind. The aide, only a late middle aged man, was not yet suffering from that age-old desire of the alte kocker, that desperate and virtually perpetual longing; but had been around enough older men to see that hopeful devil-may-care swagger when a young, attractive woman approached them. 

Woody Allen and Phillip Roth explained this thing that Jewish men have always had for the whitest, blondest, most blue-eyed, flaxen haired young women from the Midwest.  Coleman Silk, Roth's character in The Human Stain takes home to meet his mother not just a white woman (Coleman is black but passes for white and a Jew) but an ur-blonde from Minnesota, the whitest, blondest woman who ever came to New York. 

When she tearfully cries, 'Oh, Coleman, I can't, I just can't', he goes super Jew and marries the daughter of Upper West Side Jewish intellectuals, followers of Gompers and the Jewish Socialist underground, a wiry-haired Jewess, but can never forget the delights of his jilting lover from the Midwest. 

Woody Allen imagines himself as an Orthodox Jew, dressed in black with a black fedora and payot curls, rocking before the wailing wall at the dinner table with his blonde Minnesotan girlfriend, the inimitable shiksa-envy of every Jewish man and her impossibly perfect, charming, impeccably well-mannered, proper family. 

So it was no surprise that this Brooklyn Jew, this Woody Allen clone, this shiksa-loving alte kocker fell head over heels for Fanny from Omaha, and so he replied to his aide, 'Hire her'. 

On her first day of work in the Senate chambers, in Schumer's office, and in the corridors of the Capitol, everyone turned to look, for Fanny was not just appealing to old Jewish men, but alluring in her own right, and at that instant even younger men re-assessed the women in curlers and mules they had left that morning. 

'She must be a Republican', the wags on K Street commented, for they had watched a bevy of such young women traipse up the steps of the Trump White House. 'Whiteness begins here', the President had said as he with one flourish of his pen got rid of every last vestige of DEI and restored European racial sanity to Washington; so it was quite normal to think that this stunningly beautiful white woman belonged to the other side of the aisle; but no, she was Schumer's. 

Schumer knew that he should be hiring a black woman from New York, and not a few had applied once they had gotten wind of is interest.  There was Letitia Washington a tough bitch from Crown Heights; LaShonda Jefferson, a stone trannie so gussied up with Lanvin and Armani, flouncy and runway ready that no one ever even guessed that she was a former trainman on the N Line; an upstate mulatto politico referred by Cuomo, all of them politically correct and absolutely right for the job; but when Fanny from Omaha walked into his office, they were incidental. 

Fanny was a comer, and knew how to trade on her God-given gifts.  She knew men, had heard of the famous Jewish shiksa-obsession, and had no doubt that nothing more than a little décolleté and floral perfume would do the trick.  So, she did her pouting, ingenue best when she met the Minority Leader and from the look on his face knew that he as was hooked as a flopping trout. 

Fanny was given the obligatory briefing packet - all the Minority Leader's chief legislative concerns - and the rules of the road, spelled out in detail ever since the Monica Lewinsky episode, but Fanny ignored both.  She had always acted according to her unerring instinct and this would be no different.  Yes, Schumer was influential, powerful, and respected, but he was an old Jewish man who she knew would not be able to keep his hands off her. 

For the first few weeks he saw Fanny only in the company of others.  He knew that he was walking a slippery slope and this fabled chance of a lifetime could not be jeopardized let alone his political career.  For better or worse he had thrown himself in with an arch-feminist, No-Means-No crowd of uppity women, and one misstep amidst this censorious, take-no-prisoners crowd, and he would be pilloried and run out of Washington on a rail. 

Finally, and at long last, he had some individual face time with her, and he was simply befuddled and overtaken by her sweetness, charm and sensual availability.  She was breathtaking! 

'Watch your step, Chucky Boy', he said to himself. 'Watch your P's and Q's'; but his mind kept returning to the lovely Fanny from Omaha and how he would make his first overture. 

'I'm the fucking Senate Minority Leader', he shouted at himself. 'Don't be such a pussy!', but his whole career in the progressive trenches had been based on doing the right thing and diddling an intern was simply not done, not in the cards; but then again...

Here he fantasized about a romantic interlude with the girl, a rafting trip perhaps, tequila by the campfire, and a long love-filled night under the stars; but he was too much of a politician (he hated the term 'political hack' levied on him by the opposition) to derail his career with a dumb, cock-motivated mistake. 

The Washington rumor mill being what it is, by now the street would know whether Schumer acted upon his desire.  Fanny was canny enough to know how self-serving leaks worked; but nothing.  Innuendo, speculation but the consensus was that he was simply too pussy-whipped by AOC and her young women of color to actually make overtures to a white, blonde, Midwestern girl. 

Yet, word from the insider of the insides that a tour of the Adirondacks was in the offing for the Minority Leader and his 'most trusted staff' to discuss Trump tariffs and ICE misbehavior - a tryst in the mountains with the love of his life; but this of course could not be confirmed. 

One thing was certain, a leopard does not change his spots; and so the perfect storm of aged, fading sexual dreams and the inevitable shiksa-obsessed alte kocker pursuit was a sure thing.