My Conversation with a Trump Supporter
By 
Lately I’ve been feeling vexed by our country’s intense political polarization, so I reached out to a friend who remains loyal to our flamboyant, beleaguered president. I wanted to pick his brain and ask him what’s at the root of our our lack of trust in “the other.”
Tyler is a down-to-earth penny-pincher, so I met him at a no-frills steakhouse. (Many of the entrees are under $65 dollars.) I watched him as he exited his GMC Sierra Denali and walked towards me, the economic anxiety fairly wafting off of him.
He greeted me warmly, with a firm handshake and a hearty slap on the back, which is the wont of heartland folks like him. I noticed with a grimace some of his clothes were probably off-the-rack Dillards. His Timberland loafers were noticeably scuffed.
When he took off his blazer, I chuckled at his “Fuck Your Feelings” t-shirt. Trump voters can still surprise me with their passion for this man.
We took a seat in a corner booth, near the floor-to-ceiling fireplace with in clearly-aged leather seats. This humble abode had seen more than its fair share of–spiritually and literally–hungry hoi polloi.
I ordered the filet; he ordered a more working class cut–the dry-aged ribeye. A sensible bottle of $50 dollar Cabernet Sauvignon followed, along with some small talk. Finally, I was ready to get to the nitty-gritty: why did he still support our loud, boisterous, kinda-fun-in-a-way president? I awaited his answer with bated breath.
He looked me squarely in the eye and shouted “WHERE WE GO ONE WE GO ALL!,” then knocked over his glass of wine, and ran out of the restaurant randomly pointing at diners and screaming “FUCK YOUR FEELINGS! FUCK YOUR FEELINGS, TOO! FUCK YOUR FEELINGS!”
I think we can all learn something from him.