So here’s an interesting story.
(I think it’s interesting, ok/it’s interesting):
I was running some errands in midtown and didn’t have my usual “don’t fuck with me/I’m listening to Queen Bey” headphones on.
I hear a southern drawl a few feet behind me. A group of 6 or 7 guys are talking 2016.
“…You don’t want millionaires running this country.”
My ears perk. It is Galli Christmas. I have found a Trump supporter in Manhattan. A PACK.
“(Unintelligible Southern Drawl)….her Foundation….millionaires….Trump.”
ARE THESE MOTHERFUCKERS SAYING HRC CANT RUN BECAUSE SHE MADE TOO MUCH MONEY?
“Charitable donations….Clinton Foundation….too much money.”
I turn around and GLARE. I GIVE THEM THE TINDER LEFT HOOK WITH MY BABY BLUES. WHO THE EFF DO THESE BERNIE BROS THINK THEY ARE DEALING WITH.
“Do you know how many people I help? Many. Do you know how many people she’s helped? Millions.”
THOSE STUPID ASSHOLES I’M GONNA ACCIDENTALLY TRIP THEM SO HARD– wait what?
“How many people has Trump helped? Her foundation has helped millions.”
I turn around. I realize Head Bro is teaching the Bro Pack about the Clinton Foundation’s spectacular work on the AIDS front. He’s informed, and inspiring these guys that she’s the one.
“Hi. I’m Sarah. Please vote.”
We start walking together, talking about the election cycle, Clinton’s qualifications, how important it is that she’s elected. Head Bro is from Georgia. H.B. is educated and passionate.
I have failed spectacularly at stereotyping a complete stranger based on snippets of conversation I entirely misheard.
Bro is a professional poker player. Bro bet a significant amount of shekels that Hillary will win on Election Night.
Bro won my number and a smile.
TLDR: Everybody vote/see you at my wedding in Georgia.