So. I guess back in 2005 when I was still delusional that this blog was going to be a blog about balancing my hilarious full time motherhood with my thrilling adventures (hahaha) as a part time newspaper photographer I posted this extraordinarily politically correct little story in which I pretty much just said "I met Donald Trump and he looked me so hard it was like I was the only person in the room. I guess that's how he keeps getting those new pretty young trophy wives." Except, I didn't say TROPHY because, yeah, I was being PC.
But....in the real world.... if you had been employed by the paper for which I worked, you would have heard a story that was more all about the total freaky creepiness of the meeting and how he kept looking straight at me and I couldn't wait to get myself out of there and actually bolted at the first chance I got, thankfully before the event was over and while the lights were still low, while suppressing the urge to hurl- while running as fast as my feet could carry me so that I could scrub my right hand shake hand off until the skin was pink and raw because as he gave the world's creepiest stare down treatment (for the first time that night) as he walked directly towards me to shake my hand. The level of creeped out that I was the day after that event was legendary for a while, the editor still recalls it vividly.
I believe all the accusations.