Benedicte Valentiner invites the readerbehind the scenes of one of the world'smost prestigious official guest houses:the historic, charming, and beautifulBlair House, across from the WhiteHouse. For more than thirteen yearsMrs. V hosted Chiefs of State and Headsof Government during their officialvisits with Presidents Ronald Reagan,George H. W. Bush, Bill Clinton,and George W. Bush.Her anecdotes about theworld's most powerful leadersare revealing, entertaining, anddramatic; we are present whenGeorge H. W. Bush plays withhis grandchildren, when aninebriated Boris Yeltsin isdiscovered wandering throughBlair House, and when the Togodelegation's luggage reveals a smokedmonkey, an enormous lizard, and giantcockroaches.Mrs. V also writes about the year spent inraptor research in Iran, about weaving inMexico, and how she very early decidedon the career which led her to one ofthe world's most prestigious hospitalitypositions.PROLOGUEOn the first night of Boris Yeltsin’s?visit in September 1994 our two security officers on duty got a bigger adventure than they could ever have imagined. At about 12:30 am Officers Paul Besett and Michael Cooney saw on their computer screen an astonishing sight. Clad but sparsely, having forgotten to put on his pajamas, the mighty President of the Russian Federation was briefly dressed as he negotiated the back stairs with the certainty of a person who had a directional problem.He was stoned out of his skull ߝ and he was almost naked.Our security officers were glued to the computer screen. At the bottom of the circular emergency staircase going from the dressing room in the Primary Suite and leading to the New Executive Office building’s garage, they saw Boris Yeltsin trying to open the garage door and nearly jumping out of his briefs from fright as it gave off a loud signal. Then the security officers lost him on the screen. Frantically they called the USSS Command Post to alert them that “their man” was loose in the house. And when they turned away from the screen they had another shock. There was Boris Yeltsin in the flesh ߝ and such a lot of it too ߝ holding on for dear life to the door frame of their office. Without a word, he bowed gravely to them and staggered out, rolling around the corner into the Leslie Coffelt Room. This room, named for the security guard who gave his life defending President Harry S Truman during an assassination attempt by Puerto Rican Nationalists on November 1, 1950, was set aside as a down-room for the Metropolitan Police and USSS uniformed police so that during their strenuous and long hours protecting our visitors they could come in out of the cold and refresh themselves. During that particular night there were thirty sitting around when Yeltsin turned up. “There is a drunken Russian in here,” someone casually said to which another one replied: “This is not a drunken Russian. It’s B o r i s Y e l t s i n!”