A Heartfelt Apology to the Secret Service Agents Whose Careers I Ruined:
Dear Secret Service,
It was with sincere regret in my heart that I read about your being relieved of duty as the result of our scandalous actions in Colombia.
When I drove to Cartagena with a car full of Four Loko, baboon tranquilizers and 17 Portuguese prostitutes, ruining the careers of 12 Secret Service agents was the last thing on my mind.
Life is filled with unexpected twists and turns. Sometimes they lead us to do things we didn’t anticipate doing, like going jogging instead of taking the bus, or crashing an international presidential summit in Colombia and convincing 12 Secret Service agents to get crazy drunk with you instead of studying for a political science exam.
Looking back on (what I can remember of) that night, I was really in the wrong. When you guys insisted that you were “on duty” and “literally the only thing standing between the president and certain death,” I should have listened!
I certainly shouldn’t have tried to convince you otherwise, or called you a bunch of “Killjoy Kevins,” or stood in front of you flapping my arms and making chicken noises for 20 minutes straight.
Totally my bad, guys.
Certainly, I should have listened to my better judgment right around the time we took Air Force One out for a joyride.
Part of me was thinking that what we were doing might possibly have negative repercussions on America’s reputation, but a much larger part of me was thinking how hilarious it would be to sky-write “SCREW YOU” over the Capitol.
And it was. It was hilarious.
The fact that our night of partying was completely awesome does not in any way excuse the behavior I coerced you fine soldiers into.
I fully admit that breaking into the Canadian embassy and stealing all their pens was my idea, as was using those pens to draw a little Hitler mustache on the Colombian president’s face while he was asleep. In my defense, I was not aware at the time that the ink was permanent, and I am told that the “Hitlerstache” is set to make a comeback any day now.
I would like to offer a very special apology to one particular agent, and I want you to know that I sincerely regret convincing you to moon President Obama; he did not find it nearly as amusing as I was hoping he would.
While I don’t think it’s strictly my fault that America elected a total buzzkill for a president, I do admit some measure of responsibility, and hope that you will not hold a grudge upon your release from the military prison at Guantánamo Bay.
While there is little I can do to reverse the damage done to your careers, please accept my heartfelt apologies to the Secret Service for my terrible influence, and know that I am really, really sorry.
So, if you could call off the assassin squad outside my apartment, that would be really great.
Ryan McAndrews is a junior studying journalism and a columnist for The Post. Was his crazy night worth it? Let him know at email@example.com.