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It Started with Trump

by Martin Green


     The morning’s headline said: “Dan Bigsby Fired by Trump.” The story beneath related that Handsome Dan Bigsby, as he was called, industrialist and popular member of Washington society, was the latest White House staffer to be fired by President Trump.    Rumors were that he disagreed with Trump’s policy of dealing with dictators, or hadn’t complimented Trump on his necktie at a meeting.   

     That afternoon another industrialist, Tom Hamilton, received a telephone call from the White House in his New York office. The President wanted Hamilton to fill a recently vacated staff position. He was to fly to Washington immediately. His personal assistant, Steve Blake, a nice-looking young man, asked, “Are you going to take the job?”

     “Yes,” said Hamilton. “I know the guy is kind of a jerk, but when the President calls you have to do it. Maybe I can do some good. I just remembered, I have a ticket to the opera tonight.”

     Hamilton! Besides being an industrialist, he was also an opera fan. “Would you like my ticket?’

     “Opera? I don’t know.”

     “Go ahead. Maybe you’ll like it.”

     “Okay. I’ll make arrangements for your flight.”

     In Washington, Dan Bigsby had just finished packing his personal items and was preparing to leave his White House office. “I just remembered,” he said to his secretary Betty White, a nice-looking young lady, “I have two tickets to the opera in New York tonight. I don’t especially feel like going. I don’t suppose you’d like one.”

     “I would,” said Betty, who was an opera fan. “But I’d have to get to New York.”

     “Yes. Well, I could let you have my airplane ticket, too. I’m not going anywhere.”

     “In that case, sure. I love opera.”

     Later Dan Bigsby was conveying the news of his dismissal to his mistress Lola Lake.

     “Hmm,” said Lola. “That’s too bad.  I’ll have to reconsider our relationship.”

     “Yes. I see. By the way, do you still have those tickets to the opera in New York tonight?”

    “Well, I gave one to my secretary but I still have one. You don’t want it, do you?”

     “I do.  I love opera.”

     That night Steve Blake was seated in the front row of the opera house waiting for the curtain to go up when a nice-looking young woman took a seat next to him. They got into a conversation, learned how they’d happened to get their tickets to the opera, discussed their respective bosses and the President and were getting into their personal lives when the curtain started to go up. At the same time, the most beautiful woman Steve had ever seen said “Excuse me” and took the seat on the other side of him. She turned and gave him a brilliant smile.

     After the opera ended----but what follows is another story.

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