Trump's Portrait

I was reading the New York Post on Election Day sitting at a table distant from others and felt safe; a pretty girl in her twenties in a red uniform wearing a blue cap to break the norm, asked me for my order and as I looked up the portrait of President Trump lit up from a filtered sunray through the store window, " It's a good omen for a vibrant president waiting on a victory that even myself predicted. " Today is a bright day, but it lingers with sorrow... every nation looks to America for a future so dimmed. The puzzled waitress stared at me and repeated, " Sir, may I have your order? " " Oh, yes, coffee with pancakes, please. " " No sausages, or ham?" " Just plain pancakes." I kindly said. " She took my order and scurried away a little perplexed, almost in dismay... while the portrait of Trump continued to gleam. Coffee was served, but on the table, there was no cream, " I don't drink black coffee where's the cream, transgender? " I got slapped twice and felt some pain, the angry manager came out, but she was fatter than a cow, I was terrorized. I apologized for any silly remark as I touched my hair so unkept, " No gender harassment in this restaurant is permitted! " You are a Trump supporter and you dislike the girl I hired! " I am going to slap you four times for your inappropriate comment and pour coffee all over your hair that needs a haircut I deem! " I got up and dripping with hot coffee, I saluted Trump's portrait and left.