I had an encounter with a Trump the other day.
It was on a crisp Sunday as I was boarding a ferry to Vancouver Island in British Columbia amidst throngs of similarly tired, stressed out good folks waiting like cattle to board a hilariously understocked ship for the 90 minute trip across the water.
It was a lovely autumnal morning, the water was calm, there was a gentle breeze, the sun was out and the transport was on time. All seemed well despite the fact that the waiting room to board was so small that everybody was crammed in like the proverbial sardine, but that's just one of the burdens of travel, one that I and I'm sure the majority are used to and are resigned to putting up with.
I was waiting patiently keeping myself to myself, probably contemplating something unrelated to nautical affairs.
It was then when I noticed the man behind me acting rather strange.
This bloke was a fairly standard looking late middle aged man, probably in his 50's or early 60's, regulation belly protruding from his unfashionable shirt and bland baseball hat from some town he had once visited now covering his humpty dumpty head.
And he was, quite clearly, a Trump.
He was talking to a small boy who was with him, probably this particular Trump's son or grandson.
The Trump was flicking some paper in the boy's face and saying something along the lines of "Next time someone cuts in front of me again I'm gonna shove this in their face." I thought this was fairly bizarre, and so too did the poor kid. No one had moved so I wasn't sure whom he was saying had cut him off.
The Trump then straightened up, looked at me and said "Yeah, I'm talking about you."
I was a little confused. There was a bout two feet of space between us and, even with a Trump size belly and ego, there was ample space for him to maneuver himself into whatever Trumpy position he felt comfortable. With my cloudy befuddled travel head I tried to understand his point, but then quickly realized that I was indeed dealing with a Trump, so logic and reason may not be the most effective solution. "Would you like to go in front of me?" I said to him.
In blustery, angry, barely-coherent fashion, he said, "I'd like you to get out of my face."
Perplexing again. I would like to be anywhere than close to a Trump's face.
I quickly stamped out my internal fuse that had been lit (incidentally, Trump's are unable to do this) to prevent me from just completely laying into this guy's idiocy. Instead I went with a simple "you should set a better example to your son" and proceeded to get away from this guys line of sight. I could hear him behind me exclaim in reply with a word that sounded something like "bfgdfbdgsxcswlbf..."
The point is, Trumps are everywhere. When I encountered this particular chap I immediately thought "What a complete and utter massive Trump." We will continue to encounter Trumps in all walks of life. The word has been redefined. No longer is Trump a card game or slang for a fart, we have a new definition unintentionally created by one of the biggest morons in history. So, I would like to suggest to dictionaries of the world that we add an addendum to the definition of "Trump".
1. A person or persons who seemingly lack empathy, compassion or a sense of reality. Characterized by a belief that they are right and the world is "wrooong".
The locker room atmosphere was spoiled by the presence of a Trump.
1. To act with ignorance and a disregard for facts, logic, reason or intelligence.
Matthew was trumping all day then realized he had no friends.
Once it has fully entered our vocabulary you will find them everywhere, on all continents and cities.
Talk to them as you might talk to a toddler or a dog. Make them feel Trumpish. Then maybe, maybe one day the Trump's of the planet will concede, and join us in the real world.
Perhaps they will learn the art of intelligent conversation, sentence structure, empathy and logic. I am confident that this can happen.
Let's just hope their supreme leader doesn't become president.
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