"James
Comey, did you know him very long?"
the New York Journal and Times reporter stirred her drink and stared
waiting for the President of the United States to answer her question.
"I
guess not too long?" President
Donald Trump continued to think out loud "Too long I guess, maybe not long
enough?" as he watched her belt back the rest of her drink and slam then
empty glass on the wooded bar table.
President
Trump always enjoyed being interviewed by Sally of the New York Journal and
Times newspaper and this time she had the inside scoop not the White House.
Sally
lit another cigarette and Donald Trump waved off the secondary smoke and adjusted
his red necktie, mostly out of habit.
Sally was a fifty something old beat reporter that had made the big time
over all the odds, in combination with great sources and blistering writing
skills and talents, but that blond hair
and a slim firm body was always used to change the mental state of people she
interviewed.
President
Trump always noticed that one strand of blonde hair out of place, he guessed it
was part of her sexy look, at least it was to him.
Sally
wasn't the type of newspaper reporter that just followed the crowd so she
carefully and effectively interviewed the President as the fired F.B.I.
Director James Comey was on television talking about his personal notes.
"Some
say Mr. President, that you deep fried him." Sally gave Donald Trump that Southern charm
look that Donald Trump could never resist.
She dipped another cold French fry in ketchup and said "Mmm- want
some?
Donald
Trump leaned back and took a quick breath "Sally, after your flour them up
with compliments, after you heat up the Crisco, they tend to jump into the hot
oil all by themselves." James Comey
made a fundamental choice to grandstand in front of the nation and Donald Trump
and Sally knew why, they thought.
"His
little monologue about all the crooked things Hillary Clinton did, and then
letting her off the hook was his ending."
Donald Trump took a sip of water and adjusted his tie again, "James
Comey is sinister and weird Sally and a very confrontational creature" as he
asked that the T.V. channel to be changed to FOX News.
"James
gets his jollies by showing people he has power." "He will chime in when everybody tells
him to shut up." "Now he's
chirping about his own personal notes and painstakingly declares everything
true and authentic."
Sally
grinned, "So is the bastard telling the truth Mr. President?" a grin
from Sally is like getting a whisper do you want to go "fuck me" in
my room after dinner.
Donald
Trump was now watching FOX News and listening to some clunky question from the
Democratic side as Sally dipped another French fry.
You
could tell that James Comey was packed full of emotion as his physical gestures
were almost childlike. James Comey set
up straight, his hair perfect and his body language and gestures were all in
line, another performance.
"He's
telling his truth Sally." the
President also noted silently that "swagger" that James Comey had
about him, the fake pause in his comments, repeating his hot spots using
different words but making the President wonder who hired this boring
son-of-a-bitch in the first place.
"I
sometimes use the wrong words Sally, fuck, you know that!" Donald Trump took a dip of Sally's ketchup
with one of her French fries.
"Real
people talk like me and you Sally."
"They share their fears and dreams and at times even French fries
and ketchup."
the President and
Sally could hear the disgraced and terminated F.B.I. Director James Comey
talking on the television using some kind of bull shit jargon to avoid
answering the question up for bat.
President
Trump turned around and asked one of his agents to turn it back to CNN to enjoy
the radical special report by the Wolfe.
CNN
makes everything sound authentic, even when they leave out all the facts.
Sally
and the President liked Wolfe but his meanderings would drive you nuts and his
political digressions were well known so he always dropped the right words,
named the right names and painted the picture that Comey had the goods on
Trump, even though with all the fragments of words combined didn't add up to
anything.
"Mr.
President, you know my X-husband and you might remember that he was a tough shit,
he's now a retired homicide detective from New York City?" Sally
grinned again and only Christ could not admire her beautiful smile.
"James Comey should retire like Pete did
and go fishing for whores, but he truly wants to be the lone ranger, some
childhood fantasy or a turn on for his wife?"
"My
Pete played cops and robbers for twenty years all over the city, and the
goddamn city is full of mobsters, illegal aliens with guns, and contented
whores but James Comey turned the F.B.I. into the Laurel and Hardy show... and
now he wants the world to read his diary.. we're lucky you fired him.."
Sally
was talking and listening but inside she was wondering about her x-husband Pete
as she rolled her empty glass on the table to get some attention.
Present
Trump noticed that she was twirling that loose strand of blonde hair.
President
Trump took Sally's note pad and pen and started doodling on the paper and she
wondered if she was about to live a Kennedy Moment, a phone number maybe, a
great truth revealed, maybe a hotel room and a good fuck, you never knew with
Donald Trump, but in the end the guy had changed over the last twenty years or
so and he was writing down a scripture from the Bible;
"Let's
face it Sally, people love a good plot, so do I, so do you." "The Democrats started the ball rolling
and the media keeps applying the force to keep the Russian story
everywhere." "If you skip
ahead Sally the DNC will lose everything and the Clinton's will be in prison so
I'm ready for their action." the President was a little angry now as his
dialogue was a little more dramatic, she had known him for years and he tended
to show his emotions if you knew him well enough.
CNN,
ABC, CBS, NBC, MSNBC, The New York Times and at times FOX News are being
battered everyday by the American public and Sally knew people relished a great
story but in the end they wanted the truth.
Sally's
strong sense of honesty made her a top reporter and her syndicated columns were
must read in Los Angeles, New York City, Miami, Washington D.C, but most
importantly in every little middle class town across America.
The
Washington D.C. swamp, both Republicans and Democrats were trying to stop
Donald Trump and the American People, even a terminated F.B.I. Director.
The
colorful Donald Trump had become president because the country needed a Donald
Trump at this moment in time. The
political swamp was a dangerous place and now the Democrats and Republicans
could smell the fire smoke from the brush fire that Donald started. They were scattering and running away from
the fire but Sally knew the President had a ring fire going, he was going to
get them all.
CNN,
ABC, CBS, NBC, MSNBC, The New York Times always missed the "Trump
Point" of the open market thinker, the business guy, the cut your throat
and let you die Donald Trump, that guy that Sally had written about for years.
"Mr.
President, they picked the time and place for the fight, what do you
think?" Sally noticed that it looked like the President was sleeping with
his eyes open, she had seen that before, he was lost in his thoughts.
"Mr.
President, every barrage of propaganda batters the White House, every wave
floods out your plans. What's you plan
Mr. President?" she fingered the huddled clump of French fires and Sally picked
out and ate another as President Trump relaxed and started talking again.
"Sally,
James Comey is giving the impression that he has created." "It's like a little girl writing in her
diary, full of abstract ideas, thoughts and disconnected facts."
"The
turbulence is being picked up by the Media, but the people see the emptiness of
his testimony Sally, the maze of crooks won't stop until the people stop them
and that's why they elected me."
"Mr.
President, when does the swamp get drained?"
"Fuck,
I don't know Sally, ask the fucking Russians!"
President
Trump and Sally laughed out loud, maybe a little bit too loud as the
descriptive power of the word "fuck" never stopped amusing Sally.
President
Trump noticed the silver ring on Sally's hand "I see you're being swayed
Sally, so who's the mystery man?"
Sally
could see the phone being slipped to the President before she could respond.
Sally
had the nose of a hunting dog, and she smelled something in the Presidents
change in tone and body language.
The
tension was building as President Trump was listening more and talking less as he
got up and walked away from their private corner table.
President
Trump never came back to the table but he did wave goodbye to his long time
friend Sally as the shadowy movements of his secret service detail came to full
life.
Sally
felt like she was caught in a time warp, one minute talking to the real
President Donald Trump and now watching CNN flipping rumors into news.
The
waitress was a brunette who reminded Sally of a girl she knew in college years
ago with a dishtowel in one hand a Sally's fresh drink in the other.
It
was a cool crisp day, sunshine and nice so she got up and paid the tab for her
and Donald Trump and a twenty for that waitress. She thought about writing her story but she
decided that eating dumplings in Chinatown would be more fun.
Sally
understood the political games and she would write about Donald Trump being
elected and F.B.I. James Comey being hired.
It seems that the fired F.B.I dick didn't understand the difference.
She
put a big circle around the Bible scripture that Donald Trump wrote down in her
notebook.
Maybe her story would start
with those words, not belonging to Sally and not belonging to President Donald
Trump, maybe from somebody a lot smarter than both of them combined.
The
scripture that President Trump wrote down for her, it was like a love letter
found tucked away into some old library book or maybe a note found in last
week's paper and it made Sally smile, looking at her new silver ring.
He
had got her attention.
Finally,
she admitted Donald Trump made her feel safe.
Hesitantly
she narrowed her eyes to avoid some of the brightness outside and her famous
smile tugged on her as she nodded to the next yellow cab in line.
What
the Hell, dumplings in Chinatown.
.
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