Having a Lunch Date With Donald Trump Was Weird

Author’s note: All conversations in my dinner stories only occur in my head. I offer readers sarcasm, satire, and, hopefully, subtle humor. — BC

After sharing meals with Jesus Christ and Barack Obama, jealousy reared its ugly head.

Former President Donald J. Trump wanted to share a meal with Donnie Jr and me at McDonald’s. I always thought his preference for fast food was a myth. Nope. It’s not. Two cheeseburgers, a four-piece Chicken McNuggets, large fries, and large Diet Coke were placed neatly in front of him at the table.

I didn’t want to eat lunch with a pair of Donnies. I told Donald it would be just the two of us, or lunch was off.

We sat across from each other, making small talk while Donald ate his McNuggets. If that wasn’t a weird fucking sight to behold, I don’t know what is.

Donald asked why I didn’t want to eat with Donnie Jr.

“I can deal with you. I admit having two of you trying to stare me down or talk over me time and again would be too much.”

“I can understand that. Junior never knows when to shut the hell up,” Donald said.

“He’s not the only one,” I mumbled under my breath.

“What? Did you just say I talk too much,” he demanded to know. “That’s fake news! Everyone knows that is absolutely, 100 percent fake news!”

“Alright, alright. I apologize, Donald.”

“I told you to call me Mr. President!”

“You’re not the president anymore,” I said

“THAT is fake damn news! I had 74 million votes in 2020.”

“Uhm, Biden had 81 million,” I replied.

“I don’t want to hear about that damn Brandon! The Democrats stole those votes from me in the voting machines,” Trump declared.

“Then why have you lost every court battle regarding the 2020 election?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Shut up and eat your burger!”

“I didn’t order a burger, Donald. All that food is yours.”

“Have a damn burger, then,” he screamed, tossing a cheeseburger at me.

“Those were two for $2. You owe me a dollar plus tax.”

“OK, Donald. Fine,” I said, pulling a dollar and two nickels from my pocket. “You’re a billionaire. Why do you need a lousy dollar and a dime from me?”

“I just do. Is that OK with you, or were you hoping for a free meal?

“Well, you did invite me to lunch. I didn’t think I’d have to go dutch with a billionaire,” I said.

We sat silently, eating our lunches. I decided to take a chance and ask another question, albeit a bit more harmless.

“Donald, what was it like being on the set of “Home Alone 2?”

He perked up and smiled, seemingly grateful to get away from politics.

“Home Alone was a great, great movie. It could have been better if I had more screen time. Chris Columbus was a wonderful director. If only he’d given me more screen time. Then he would have been one of Hollywood’s greatest directors.”

“I loved the movie,” I said. “The first film was better, but the sequel was really good.”

“You’re wrong, Bruce. My appearance in the sequel made it a much better film!”

I decided not to get into the number of fans who wanted him edited entirely out of the film. Or, for that matter, when the CBC cut his appearance from the movie in 2014. According to the CBC, the film was cut for time constraints.

Moving on, I asked about his 2024 run for president.

“I can’t really say,” he said. “This is such an important decision for my future.”

“Uhm, don’t you mean the future of the U.S.,” I asked.

“Yes, of course. But it’s my legacy on the line here,” he said.

“Do you think you can beat Joe Biden this time?”

“I beat him last time,” he huffed. “That election was rigged against me. And it’s still happening to the Republicans who love me; Steve Bannon, Mike Lindell, and many more. Look at what they did to Kari — Kari….”

“Lake,” I said.

Yes, yes. Kari Lake. She’s a wonderful woman who ran an excellent campaign. And it was stolen from her by Democrats.”

“Lake really likes you, Donald. Did you ever grab her by the …?”

“That’s enough,” Donald, yelled. “Kari’s a lovely woman. I would never do that to her!”

“Donald, there’s a recording of you saying that. I just thought I’d ask.”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, Bruce. People lie, you know.”

“Oh, I know they do. A lot of politicians do, for example,” I said.

I quickly changed the subject. I saw Donald’s eyes bulging. He was getting ready to blow.

“What will your campaign run on,” I asked.

“I’m running on the backs of every patriot who supported me in 2016 and 2020,” he declared.

“That’s an interesting phrase: ‘Running on the backs of every patriot.’ Aren’t some of your ‘patriots’ in jail now? They believed you were going to pardon them for their stupidity.”

Donald flushed, saying he never promised anyone a pardon for following his suggestion that they storm the Capitol.

“Wait, I said. You’re telling me it was your idea that people storm the building?”

“I never said that,” screamed Donald, bits of hamburger flying from his mouth. “I said I never promised pardons for anyone!”

“But you said they followed your suggestion to go to the Capitol.”

“I never said that. If you print a word of it, I’ll sue you!”

I wrote a number on a napkin and slid it over. “That’s how much I earn annually, Donald. Are you expecting to retire off that bit of change?” I asked.

“That’s not the point,” he said. “It’s a matter of truth!”

Donald slurped up the last of his large diet Coke and wiped his mouth.

“I have to go,” he said, motioning his security detail over.

“You want me to lock this guy up, Mr. President?”

“No. He’s really a pretty good guy. Bruce believes a lot of fake news. But I don’t want him eating more of my food for free. Take my leftovers off the table and throw them away.”

With that, the mountain man in a three-piece suit threw all the food away, including the hamburger I’d paid for. He scowled at me and hurried to catch up to Donald.

“Well, at least I didn’t get stuck with the bill this time,” I thought.

Just then, the McDonald’s manager walked over. “You owe me $23.18,” he demanded.

“For what?”

“The president left without paying for his meal.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I should have known better,” I thought, handing the man $24. “You can put the change in the Ronald McDonald’s House fundraising box.”

I accept tips, which go directly to Dining for Hunger, a recognized 501(c)(3) organization that looks to end food insecurity. If you can spare a dollar or two, I’d be grateful.