I don’t know what made me do it. Maybe I was feeling reckless. Maybe I picked
up a note of defiance in her voice as she ordered her latte. Or maybe it’s just
that as long as humans can remember Freedom, we’ll never lose our capacity to
Love.
I placed my order and as I followed her from the barista
towards the cashier, I saw my chance. Reaching for my wallet, I leaned in and
whispered, “#Drumpf.”
She didn’t acknowledge me or even flinch. Had I misjudged? I
started to panic, and my eyes instinctively glanced towards the door,
half-expecting to see the Trump Troopers. But all was quiet. She
Foursquared for her drink and headed for the door. By the time I had paid and generously tipped 12%,
she was gone.
I walked out into the bright sunlight and pulled out my phone.
A little crestfallen but also buoyed by the cherry notes of my espresso, I
pulled out my phone, and, after a quick check of my surroundings, opened Twitter.
I was just about to type in “#Drumpf” when a voice called out from the shadows,
“Do you whisper Keith Olbermann’s secret hashtag of the day in every stranger’s
ear or should I be flattered?”
It was her. And she was vaping.
It was her. And she was vaping.
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