81 Minutes With... Bernie Sanders

My Valentine's Day date railed against Über-capitalism, signed autographs, and ordered soup.

- By Bridget Read

The senator had no idea it was Valentine's Day. "When is that? This weekend?" Bernie Sanders asked when I greeted him for dinner on February 14 at Young Chow, a Chinese restaurant on Pennsylvania Avenue that he likes. No, I told him, it is Valentine's Day currently, right now, as this very meal is taking place. He was grumpy: "Why is Valentine's Day in the middle of the week?"

Not that I was expecting a softer, sweeter Sanders just because of the holiday. Or even because he is 81 years old and has been a politician for much longer than I've been alive. This date would have no frills. We drank ice water. We ordered right away (him: pork noodle soup; me: dumplings). He wasn't in the mood for chitchat. "Are we talking about my book?" he replied when I asked if the flying objects that had been shot down by the U.S. Air Force recently were aliens. (The eventual answer was deadpan: "Don't you think if people from another universe were gonna come to the United States, they could do a little bit better?") When a young woman rushed into the back room where we were sitting to ask for a photo, he kindly but bluntly told her to take it quickly. "You're Bernie Sanders. Are you serious?!" she kept repeating. He was.