Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you don’t support the candidate everyone around you is cheering for? Regarding the election, I try to be cordial while keeping my opinions on Kamala Harris to myself. This is the torment I go through every day. I don’t have the luxury of being a Tucker Carlson or Sean Hannity; I have to be careful because many of my liberal customers are out there saving lives, feeding the disabled, and helping the homeless. Is it Communism? Maybe. But what would happen without organizations like Bread for the City, Miriam’s Kitchen, or Street Sense?
Although I love my liberal audience, I’m conflicted because I want to be like Tiger Woods, not Charlamagne tha God. I have no opinions on George Floyd or racial injustice. I’ll never be caught protesting or complaining about social topics that might alienate my high-end customers. Pandering to the capitalist is my wheelhouse, and the Biden administration is the most anti-capitalist administration in history. If re-elected, we may become Venezuela.
I don’t know what to say to my liberal friends. I like people who fight back against the establishment. I see Donald Trump as a kind of white Malcolm X—a man unafraid to speak out against the elites who think I’m going to sign off on higher taxes, more crime, and a culture where men stay in bed while women hold down the home front. You’ve got to admire a man telling the establishment the things I wish I could tell them without having my life destroyed.
The Trump years were the golden age of prosperity. You don’t believe me? I can show you photos of my round belly from eating at steakhouses and Red Lobster almost every night, thanks to the economic boom under President Trump. Under Biden, everything is gone. My buffets have closed their doors, and my favorite steak place on 15th Street is gone. Downtown D.C. looks like Dresden after World War II—no more T.J. Maxx, H&M gone, and only two CVS stores are left, closing at ten.
Downtown D.C. has become a ghost town—empty streets, no foot traffic, despair as far as the eye can see. It’s so bad that a homeless guy tried to sell me a stolen bag of potato chips because he was desperate for cash. And let’s not even open the can of worms about my electricity bill, or how I’m paying $5 for bread and almost $4 for milk when it was half that four years ago.
Nothing makes sense to me. I have Jewish friends telling me, “I know you’re not going to vote for him,” yet they’re on the same side as Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib. I have black friends telling me Trump’s a racist because of the Central Park Five—an incident that happened almost forty years ago—even though he funded HBCUs, created jobs for the Black community, signed the First Step Act, and created opportunity zones. Meanwhile, Harris’s open negligence on the border and rewarding of illegal immigrants with resources that deplete African American communities goes unchallenged.
Not only African Americans, but anyone who played sports, turns a wrench, or shoots a gun should support Trump. I’m not a misogynist but a realist. I was born a man, and I like being a man. When did this become misogynistic? I was born to lead, not be led by bad ideas.
I don’t care what the stats say. When I tell you my pain, and you come at me with stats, that’s why I won’t support you. I’m getting my ass kicked, working longer hours, and taking home less, and you’re talking about job numbers being down. You’re out of touch, and you’re a liar. As much as I love my liberals, some of you need to be fired.
I don’t care if Trump is mean. I want a rottweiler tearing through D.C. I don’t want congeniality—I want a wrecking ball. I want to see suitcases packed and agencies closed, starting with the EPA and the Department of Education. Too many Boomers are sucking up my hard-earned tax dollars—cut it off. No more raising the debt; it’s time to feel consequences instead of propping up phony dollars.
I love my customers like I love my relatives. I love them too much to let them make life-and-death decisions like getting behind the wheel. I deal with liberals, feminists, and Black activists who don’t have a clue about politics. Just stay home and sit this one out! You don’t need to be anywhere near the switch box, and I say this out of love, not malice.
I tried the diversity and representation route. I’m okay going back to the days when men ran the country. I believe this election will hinge on two critical factors: common sense versus nonsense. Yet, in a landscape where political discussion has devolved into a contest of superiority—where making the other person feel stupid is the goal—what’s the point in even debating anymore?
So, as the election approaches, let’s resist the urge to reduce each other to labels and instead engage with the complexity of our beliefs—not this either-or mentality. Let’s have conversations where common sense can thrive, and don’t look me in the eyes spouting gibberish about oppression when none of you ever had to sleep outside, live off oodles and noodles, or be forced to do odd jobs or degrading stuff to stop from starving.
Stop whining, and if Donald Trump gets elected, you may hate me now, but you’ll thank me later. America will be cleaned up, law and order will be restored, and we will go through Washington, D.C., like a fine-tooth comb, getting rid of every worthless bureaucrat we can find. Hopefully, we can shut down every agency that doesn’t bring jobs, prosperity, and happiness to the people. I wish we could have the election now to vote these sorry sons of b out of office.
