THE OTHER GUY couldn't get his credit card to work at the gas pump either, so we both masked up and went inside. the problem turned out to be the internet, or lack thereof. I had never known, but now do, that pumping gas relied on the internet. I joked about my mask motif with the other guy, with my favorite college team on it. The other guy remarked that he wish he had a Trump mask to go with his Trump hat. I realized with horror that the gentleman, about my age, presumed that I was a trump supporter -isn't everyone? I muttered something about seeing him at the ballot box, and I think he understand, at last. My next encounter was with a young Hispanic man, my neighbor's employee, with no accent. He had never heard of Watergate or Bob Woodward, the Bob Woodward of now, not then. His truck's trump bumper sticker made his loyalty quite clear, his accent was all American, and he not an inkling that anyone named Bob Woodward had interviewed anyone named Donald Trump, nor of teh uproar precipitated by the recent revelations of said interviews.My initial horror at his ignorance and Trump support subsided into resignation. Why should I expect anyone who supports Donald Trump to have heard of Bob Woodward or of his interviews with Trump? And even so, by now those who are aware of it have decided that its all fake news, a liberal or Chines conspiracy, correct? Intrepidly, i explained to the young man the interview's contents, Trump's dueling versions of the virus, the whole story. You might imagine what happened next. The young conservative gentleman with Hispanic ancestry and blue collar social status mumbled something incoherent about history, maybe something to the effect that Trump's burden consists is undoing all the havoc wreaked by Obama and Black Lives Matter, and immediately changed the subject to Nancy Pelosi. Warning; Trump people, when confronted with facts, will invariably try to change the subject to Nancy Pelosi, as if there is relevance in so doing. something about her having been seen without a mask in Chinatown. Pure fiction, of course. It was at this point that nightmarish reality fully hit me. Trump will be reelected, that is how stupid forty nine percent of the American people are. He will spend the rest of his life in office, and I will spend the rest of my life in some twisted, grotesque Q-ANON version of hell.
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