Monday, January 28, 2019
25 degrees this morning. They’re calling for highs in the teens later this week. When, oh when, is this global warming going to end?
Am wearing my red MAGA hat today (the one I bought last summer), hoping that someone who works for the New York Slimes, the New Yorker magazine, or some similar leftwing propaganda rag will see it. Every time I think of how the Covington kids were so heinously smeared and are still being smeared, my resolve to wear my MAGA hats anywhere and everywhere only grows stronger.
Am not in the mood for anything confrontational, however; would much rather stay home and continue savoring my latest fun read (Death Comes to Pemberley by P. D. James) but I’ll perk up when I can get a decent cup of coffee. Discovered this morning, to my great chagrin, that I had run out of my good coffee so had to make do with the canned supermarket crap I was saving for emergencies. Starbucks, here I come. True confession: I like their coffee, but in recent years their leftist politics have become so overt and offensive that I’ve pretty much stopped going (except to use their toilets while not buying anything, which apparently is A-OK with the progtards in the company’s upper echelon). But I need coffee, and I’m wearing my MAGA hat, so it’ll be interesting to see how the “baristas” react.
Arrive in Manhattan and head to the nearest Starbucks, wait in line and arrive at the cash register to place my order. The barista sees my hat, laughs and gives me a thousand-watt smile and says, “I’ve got my hat at home.” We both laugh uproariously. He says, “they’re such crybabies.” More laughter. I tell him, quite honestly, that he made my day. More smiles. I wait for my order, salute my new friend, and he tells me to have a great day. As I’m leaving, a woman holds the door open for me. We both chortle. I pinch myself. Am I still in New York?
Apparently, so. On my way home from work at the end of the day, I exited the ferry at St. George and went to the MTA ticket machines to load up some more time on my metro card. I noticed a pair of mincing millennial geldings glaring at me. I ignored them but as soon as they passed me and had begun to blend into the crowd, I heard a high-pitched nasal voice directed my way saying, “Go kill yourself!” Truly, the tolerance, open-mindedness, and civility of the Left is remarkable. I’m sure the Covington boys would wholeheartedly agree.
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