The Honorable Donald Trump
Mar-a-Lago Club
1100 S. Ocean Blvd.
Palm Beach, FL 33480
Dear Mr. Trump:
May I offer some advice?
I know it has been hard losing the presidency.
It must be very difficult especially now, when voters are choosing winners in midterm elections and casting aside more losers.
But take heart. Here are some things you can do to stay busy, especially if you don’t run in 2024 — or, St. Chad forbid, you run again for the White House and lose again.
BECOME A CONSULTANT.
Take advantage of your unique political experi- ence. You are the only presidential candidate who has angered not only the fans of Tic Tacs but also the lovers of Skittles.
Back in 2005, during a conversation with TV host Billy Bush of Access Hollywood, you noticed an attractive woman.
“I better use some Tic Tacs,” you said. “Just in case I start kissing her. You know, I’m automatically attracted to beautiful [women]. I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do anything. You can do anything.”
You might not have noticed, but cameras and recorders were on. In 2016, during your presidential campaign, The Washington Post released audio and video of what you said.
The makers of Tic Tac shot back: “Tic Tac respects all women. We find recent statements and behavior inappropriate and unacceptable.”
Declared one commenter: “It’s a problem when you lose the moral high ground to a mint company.”
Only a month earlier, also during the 2016 campaign, your son Donald Jr. had likened Skittles to refugees.
“If I had a bowl of Skittles, and I told you just three would kill you, would you take a handful?” he tweet- ed in a graphic. “That’s our Syrian refugee problem.”
The company that makes Skittles snapped back: “Skittles are candy. Refugees are people.”
Melissa Fleming, spokeswoman for the
United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, told The New York Times, “Syrian refugees are fellow human beings who have left their country to escape war and terrorism. Depictions like these are dehumanizing, demeaning and dangerous.”
Some commenters detected white supremacy. “This is disgusting,” one said.
But you and your people stood behind the tweet. Then you doubled down. In a statement, your campaign said Donald Jr., one of your top advisers, was “a tremendous asset.”
If you become a consultant, you can offer advice to politicians who antagonize candy makers.
BECOME A PLUMBER.
You are the only president who has gotten caught flushing documents down toilets.
Repairmen had to unclog White House toilets stuffed with your presidential papers. Maggie Haberman, a New York Times reporter, has a picture of one of the toilets in her new book. She also has a photo of a toilet you clogged during an overseas trip.
You said she was making things up. You called her a “maggot.”
But your handwriting is on some of the papers, committed to history with your favorite pen, a black Sharpie.
If you become a plumber, you can unplug your own toilets.
YOU ARE THE ONLY PRESIDENT WHO HAS GOTTEN CAUGHT FLUSHING DOCUMENTS DOWN TOILETS.
OPEN A HOME FOR LOSERS.
You are the only president in modern memory who was a winner in your first campaign — and such a hard loser in your second (and it’s worth noting, by the way, that you lost the popular vote both times). There should be a special place for politicians like you.
The Losers Home should be white. It should have tall columns, a West Wing and an East Wing. It should have a State Dining Room, a Green Room, a Blue Room and a Red Room.
It should have a tantrum room with bare walls for throwing ketchup, and it should have a gym for getting into shape to wrestle steering wheels out of the hands of Secret Service agents.
You and other losers can move in and pretend.
Glad to be of help.
