An open letter to the arrogant national embarassment known as Donald J. Trump:
I see you.
I saw you, standing so proud over the pounds of fast food, still in their trademarked containers, sitting on historical tableware. I saw you, boasting about how you paid $50 yourself to buy the food, when it would have been truly a better display of wealth to pay for a quality dinner.
I saw you, so proud of your paranoia, ignoring the fact that that meal may trash the diets of these athletes. Of course you couldn’t serve actual food like the Obamas did: potato and eggplant salad from the White House Garden, red lentil soup, potato dumplings with okra and chutney, green curry prawns, coconut rice, pumpkin pies and pear tatins.
Speaking of real food, you know who would like some? The federal employees who are going to food banks in droves because they haven’t been paid and they need to eat. You say they support you. You’ve never faced hunger. Or privation. Let me tell you a secret. It sucks. There’s only so many ways to cook rice and beans. Food stamps help a lot. Food banks help a lot.
When I was at my hungriest, I thought about how much easier it would have been to go back to my ex husband. Then I wouldn’t be eating rice with hot sauce. I cried into my veggies when I got food stamps. I sobbed into the Wheat Thins I got from the food bank.
Don’t say people support you when they’re rationing insulin, heat, and food because you shut down the government. Don’t act proud that you paid for a meal when federal employees are struggling.
Food is sacred. Food should be safe from E. coli and Hepatitis A. Farmers should be able to plant their crops without having to rely on the government for loans. Your actions will starve the country. But you don’t care. Let them eat Big Macs.
I know malice is your agenda, but you’re a piece of shit.