I’ve just returned from one of the worst meals of my life. A bit of background: I meet virtually every week with two couples — one liberal, one conservative, with me as the swing vote — for dinner at a local restaurant. Indeed, we used to all eat at separate tables until a waitress put us together — an arrangement that has proved mostly harmonious. Mostly.
Tonight things got a bit acrimonious as the conversation turned to former President-turned-writer-and-editor Donald J. Trump. I was accused of hitting the subject hard by the conservative bloc. But I think that’s because I insisted on delivering a message that they and other conservatives and Republicans don’t want to hear: You’re screwed.
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