Daily Caller: A fizzing glass of Diet Coke sat on the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office in front of a smiling president of the United States.
Donald Trump thanked the staffer who brought it and pointed at me. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. When is the next time in my life the leader of the free world is going to ask me if I want a drink?
“A Diet Coke,” I said.
Trump flicked his wrist and off the staffer went, into an adjacent side room, returning moments later with a tall, round glass with a golden Presidential Seal on it. It was set down on a silver coaster in front of me. Fizzing Diet Coke on the Resolute Desk.
This is Trump’s America. I mean, why not?
Interviewing Trump
makes my bottom sore
but I can’t quit him
so I sue him for more.
On a weekend, Summer 1987, during Ronald Reagan’s administration, I was dating a Secret Service officer. Myself and my then 8 yo daughter were given a private tour of the WH, West Wing and Press room.
What struck me, aside from the tight quarters of the WW, size of the Brief room (my living room was larger), the entire section was like a ghost town. Didn’t see a single soul other than 2 SS buddies of my boyfriend. The Oval Office was blocked off by red ropes at the entrance door, I was told that’s standard procedure when the President is not in the WW on weekends. Even the Oval was smaller than I anticipated.
One of the SS guys had just gotten a fade mowawk haircut. He told my BF, Reagan walked past his post the previous evening, nodded and got onto the elevator to retire to the presidential residence. Before closing the door, Reagan got back off the elevator and in his RR voice, said, “son, that’s an interesting haircut you got there”, closed the door and disappeared.
Got great pics from that visit, including one at the Press podium.
Before I get too busy in the kitchen, Happy Thanksgiving 🦃 to one and all iotw fam.