Don’t get me wrong, I’m obviously all for Trumpism if that means Trumps have equal rights. Trumps should make as much money per hour as everyone else, control medical decisions pertaining to their own bodies, and be whatever they want, whether it’s a nurse, schoolteacher, even an inept real estate developer.
But President of the United States? I just don’t think a Trump has what it takes.
Let’s face it: Trumps are — how shall I put this without getting their golf pants in a twist? — highly temperamental, particularly when it’s “that time of the month”: the release of the jobs report. One minute they’re acting more or less normal (insofar as Trumps are ever “normal” — the non-Trumps know what I’m talking about!), the next they’re ready to start a nuclear war with an off-teleprompter remark. And if you’ve ever committed the grievous offense of saying something even mildly critical about one of them — well, hell hath no fury like a Trump scorned.
I’m not saying a Trump couldn’t possibly be a rational, intelligent president. I’m saying college transcripts have repeatedly shown that, on average, Trumps possess inferior cognitive-thinking skills from the rest of the population. They don’t understand complex issues, especially anything to do with science or numbers. Have you ever even seen a Trump read a book? Nope. They’re obsessed with their hair and makeup and celebrities, and spend all their time nattering on the phone, posting selfies and inane comments, and watching mindless daytime talk shows while guzzling Diet Coke. (On that note: Trumps, honey, if you really want to drop a few pounds, maybe stop eating McDonald’s for every meal and get off your lazy ass once in a while?)
The great presidential minds of Jefferson, Lincoln, and… a Trump? The optics just aren’t right.
Trumps in politics always try to portray themselves as tough, but when you get them in a one-on-one, they’re weak and nonconfrontational. I’d worry about electing a Trump who would embarrassingly fawn over foreign strongmen because they remind them of their father.
Speaking of which, most Trumps barely work, so all their money comes from Daddy’s bank account. And they spend it in the most frivolous ways, like on absurd neckties, tacky interior décor, and undocumented workers. I’ve never known a Trump who wasn’t in multimillion-dollar debt. Can you imagine one of them trying to balance the budget?
Frankly, I’m not even sure we should allow Trumps to fight in the military — if, that is, they didn’t already try to wriggle out of service by claiming boots hurt their dainty little feet.
As for that perennial question of which politician you would rather have a beer with, that’s a no-brainer: Trumps don’t even drink beer. And that really gets to the heart of it. Trumps come off as unrelatable to the average American. When they talk about sports, you can tell they’re faking it. It’s hard to picture one playing with a dog on the White House lawn. I’ve never known a Trump with a genuinely good sense of humor. Okay, fine, I’ll just come out and say it:
A Trump is simply not likable enough to be president.
Teddy Wayne’s new novel, Apartment, has just been published. He will be in conversation with Kate Bolick at Books Are Magic in Brooklynn on March 6 at 7 p.m.