flying palace of vulgarity.
A dissenting smart-ass:It was fun being on the Boeing 757 with Trump. Before the flight from Boston to Bangor, he’d ordered lunch for the crew — McDonald’s all the way. Not an affectation like Hillary at Chipotle — he tore off the buns (“Do you know how many calories you save that way?”) and then doused the patties with ketchup before gobbling them down.
He travels in an easy chair in front of a large TV screen turned to Fox. He reads until his name is mentioned by one of the anchors. Given how he dominates the coverage, this doesn’t leave him much time for reading.
Third, McDonald's is not a treat. McDonald's is what parents get their kids because, look, it was a long day at work, this the fastest option on the way home, and the words "dollar menu" have a certain frugal appeal. McDonald's is the food equivalent of a Snoopy bandage. It’s cute. It’s available. It’s not a long-term solution.
Follow-up: As someone who is mildly afraid of the miracle of flight, I would buy my pilots and crew something nice. Like a steak, a fresh salad, or if I’m feeling like a conduit of the people, Chipotle.
Fourth, you can’t talk about Donald Trump’s love for McDonald's as a signifier of an everyman, then, in the same paragraph, compliment the guy for cutting calories by scrapping the bun.
Fifth, if your buddy eats McDonald's by bare palming a naked beef patty slathered in ketchup, you do not share that with the world. And if you do, you most certainly don’t use the verb "gobble."
Sixth, "given how he dominates the coverage, this doesn’t leave him much time for reading." Just imagine: we could one day turn to a President who doesn’t read, because he’s a modern Narcissus, hopelessly caught in his own cable news reflection.
With friends like this, who needs enemies?