After the world’s longest parade, inauguration evening was engulfed in red satin handbags and dapper Midwestern men who traded the comfort of one-piece long underwear for ill-fitting rented tuxes. Some of us who had ball tickets (even to the schnazzy Babyboomer’s Ball) simply opted out because really, three hours of security lines is enough for one day. Instead we headed to U Street and the evening’s must-have photo op at Ben’s Chili Bowl.

I'm hoping Barack Obama will have the power to make my dreams come true (date with Helen Mirren), but for now I'll settle for my predictions. As soon as he got elected, our first order of business was to comb through DC-area restaurants to find out where we could scope out hawt Secret Service agents on late-night food runs for their boss. Back then, we predicted that an Obama mainstay would be Ben's Chili Bowl, a DC diner institution. We wrote that "Night-hawk drunkards should not be surprised to find a man in sunglasses and dark suit, asking his boss if he’d like chili cheese fries with that." Well, guess what -- he would indeed.

If you're the new First Couple, where do you go for a meal? We find out