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We made our way to the prime minister's house, getting searched as we entered his compound, searched as we walked into a holding room before going into the house and then searched again before going in the gate. We saw American soldiers, but no Secret Service.
The Secret Service showed up and we got searched again.
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Oddly enough, one of the Iraqi government delegates gathered the correspondents and told us not to ask questions. "If you want to embarrass the prime minister, ask a question," he said. Ok, that kind of defeats the purpose of bringing together the entire Iraqi press.
Still, the Iraqis were having a blast, taking pictures of themselves at the table and lecterns where Bush and Prime Minister Nouri al Maliki would speak. The mood was positively jovial. Some joked about smartass comments they'd like to ask the president, like "Is the mission accomplished now?" Sounds offensive to Americans, but I'd chalk up to typical reporter banter.
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Hands leap, especially among the Iraqi press who have never had a chance to ask a question to the American president who shaped their lives for the past five years.
That's when the shoes started flying.
"This is a kiss of goodbye, you dog," Zaidi shouted.
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