Last night, along about 8:30, my landline rang. I’d normally let the machine field the call but, after being in isolation for over a month, even the prospect of, perhaps, sparring with a pesky telemarketer, did have a certain air of appeal to it. Anyway…
She asked for me by my full name. Actually pronounced the surname perfectly, which, in itself, seemed a bit lucky, if not odd. Sans actually admitting who I was, I then cautiously asked who was calling. She assumed that meant she had reached the man she had wanted to speak to and promptly commenced to identify herself by profession / not name. She was none other than a Trumpster Pollster (Of course, Trumpster is my characterization… not hers).
She next got into this rattle-off-the-fine-print routine of how this call was being monitored and recorded, which, for all intents and purposes was admonishing me to toe the line. Translation….
YOU HAD BETTER BE NICE TO ME BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT TO
INCUR THE WRATH OF YOUR GOD AND MINE… DONALD J. TRUMP!
All melodramatics aside…
Ms. Trumpster reassured me that her survey would be brief (as in just one question)…
“Do you think the reporters have been treating President Trump fairly?
(That official title her characterization… not mine.)
As I paused to consider the big picture, I could even envision her praise junkie boss spinning himself in his Oval Office chair… perhaps even “playing” inappropriately while repeatedly playing back recordings of his totally undeserved accolades… courtesy of the vast legions of his delusional, devotee voters.
Most assuredly, I was not about to shake his hand (btw a bad idea during a pandemic) and say, “Oh Donny, what a good little boy you are!” Well, that left lefty me with two options. EITHER vent my true feelings… namely… that “Donald J. Trump will go down in the annals of history as the worst president America has ever known” OR just hang up.
I was just about to do the latter when that light bulb over the noggin moment hit me. Yep, that third option! To set this back up, properly…
Her Q: “Do you think the reporters have been treating President Trump fairly?
My A: Yes.
Oh, the brevity. Oh, how my intonation’s incredulity had spoken volumes… e.g….
Are you serious? How dare you imply that legitimate journalists have no business giving the business to the fake prez. Science denier Donny got outwitted by a freakin’ germ. His flat-out refusal to react to the Coronavirus threat in a prompt, proactive and persistent manner permitted a pandemic to come ashore, one which now, as we speak, continues to debilitate / decimate our populace and devastate our economy.
Though it had not been my intent, my monosyllabic three letter long response had certainly taken the wind out of her sails. And I’m certain I’ve not been the first one to do so. By now, her praise mining efforts must pan out as EITHER venting tirades courtesy of our indignant, disgusted electorate OR the effusive gushing of the sycophants whose heads are overflowing with Trumpian mush, gloop, goo, gook, glop, sludge, guck, etc. <— take yer pick.
Being uncertain if we were done or not, I ad libbed my “Goodnight.” And then… just to prove to Trumsters that I had far more compassion and class in my pinkie finger than their soulless boss had in his entire 227kg / 500lb body… I added my sincere…
CLICK (mine not hers)
I also offer similar sentiments to you, my readers…
Stay Safe! Stay Home! Stay Healthy!