Party Crashers: From the White House to the Big House

By Dave Roffman

In a recent poll of college students, when asked what they most would like to achieve in their careers after school, over 50 percent replied they want to be famous.

They want to be famous.

Just like the party crashers Tareq and Michaele Salahi? Better watch what you ask for. The reality TV wannabees who have made a habit of crashing parties in the metro area, not paying their bills, scamming people and lying. Yeah, they are really famous now. And for what?

It appears the only reason they go to parties -- or rather, crash parties -- is to be photographed so that they can then post their photos on Facebook. How sad, how very pathetic.

Crashing parties without invitations. We've met quite a few people like this in our years covering the social scene in DC. You can usually spot the party crashers . . . the ones who are eating way too much from the buffet tables, the ones who can't seem to get enough photographs of themselves posing with the well known guests, the ones who don't seem to have a place setting at the dinner tables.

The Salahis turned down the invite from the House Homeland Security Committee investigating their breach of protocol in crashing a White House State Dinner. We figure they will eventually be sworn in to testify about how they lied and posed their way into the White House that night. They better take the fifth to all questions, because if they are caught in a lie here, they'll end up in prison (which is probably where they belong anyway).

But then again, they'll probably soon be dining at the warden's table for all special occasions, and Michaele will probably sweet talk the warden into letting Erwin Gomez come in from the outside to do her hair once a week, and Tareq and his wife will probably soon be organzing the first-ever Prisoner Polo match and have their picture taken with each and every member of the parole board.

No, the best punishment for this dastardly duo would be to sentence them to thousands of hours of community work . . . like cleaning up after and horses and dogs in the Middleburg Christmas Parade.