"James Comey, did you know him very long?" the New York Journal and Times reporter stirred her drink and stared waiting for the President of the United States to answer her question.
"I guess not too long?" President Donald Trump continued to think out loud "Too long I guess, maybe not long enough?" as he watched her belt back the rest of her drink and slam then empty glass on the wooded bar table.
President Trump always enjoyed being interviewed by Sally of the New York Journal and Times newspaper and this time she had the inside scoop not the White House.
Sally lit another cigarette and Donald Trump waved off the secondary smoke and adjusted his red necktie, mostly out of habit. Sally was a fifty something old beat reporter that had made the big time over all the odds, in combination with great sources and blistering writing skills and talents, but that blond hair and a slim firm body was always used to change the mental state of people she interviewed.
President Trump always noticed that one strand of blonde hair out of place, he guessed it was part of her sexy look, at least it was to him.
Sally wasn't the type of newspaper reporter that just followed the crowd so she carefully and effectively interviewed the President as the fired F.B.I. Director James Comey was on television talking about his personal notes.
"Some say Mr. President, that you deep fried him." Sally gave Donald Trump that Southern charm look that Donald Trump could never resist. She dipped another cold French fry in ketchup and said "Mmm- want some?
Donald Trump leaned back and took a quick breath "Sally, after your flour them up with compliments, after you heat up the Crisco, they tend to jump into the hot oil all by themselves." James Comey made a fundamental choice to grandstand in front of the nation and Donald Trump and Sally knew why, they thought.
"His little monologue about all the crooked things Hillary Clinton did, and then letting her off the hook was his ending." Donald Trump took a sip of water and adjusted his tie again, "James Comey is sinister and weird Sally and a very confrontational creature" as he asked that the T.V. channel to be changed to FOX News.
"James gets his jollies by showing people he has power." "He will chime in when everybody tells him to shut up." "Now he's chirping about his own personal notes and painstakingly declares everything true and authentic."
Sally grinned, "So is the bastard telling the truth Mr. President?" a grin from Sally is like getting a whisper do you want to go "fuck me" in my room after dinner.
Donald Trump was now watching FOX News and listening to some clunky question from the Democratic side as Sally dipped another French fry.
You could tell that James Comey was packed full of emotion as his physical gestures were almost childlike. James Comey set up straight, his hair perfect and his body language and gestures were all in line, another performance.
"He's telling his truth Sally." the President also noted silently that "swagger" that James Comey had about him, the fake pause in his comments, repeating his hot spots using different words but making the President wonder who hired this boring son-of-a-bitch in the first place.
"I sometimes use the wrong words Sally, fuck, you know that!" Donald Trump took a dip of Sally's ketchup with one of her French fries.
"Real people talk like me and you Sally."
"They share their fears and dreams and at times even French fries and ketchup."
the President and Sally could hear the disgraced and terminated F.B.I. Director James Comey talking on the television using some kind of bull shit jargon to avoid answering the question up for bat.
President Trump turned around and asked one of his agents to turn it back to CNN to enjoy the radical special report by the Wolfe.
CNN makes everything sound authentic, even when they leave out all the facts.
Sally and the President liked Wolfe but his meanderings would drive you nuts and his political digressions were well known so he always dropped the right words, named the right names and painted the picture that Comey had the goods on Trump, even though with all the fragments of words combined didn't add up to anything.
"Mr. President, you know my X-husband and you might remember that he was a tough shit, he's now a retired homicide detective from New York City?" Sally grinned again and only Christ could not admire her beautiful smile.
"James Comey should retire like Pete did and go fishing for whores, but he truly wants to be the lone ranger, some childhood fantasy or a turn on for his wife?"
"My Pete played cops and robbers for twenty years all over the city, and the goddamn city is full of mobsters, illegal aliens with guns, and contented whores but James Comey turned the F.B.I. into the Laurel and Hardy show... and now he wants the world to read his diary.. we're lucky you fired him.."
Sally was talking and listening but inside she was wondering about her x-husband Pete as she rolled her empty glass on the table to get some attention.
Present Trump noticed that she was twirling that loose strand of blonde hair.
President Trump took Sally's note pad and pen and started doodling on the paper and she wondered if she was about to live a Kennedy Moment, a phone number maybe, a great truth revealed, maybe a hotel room and a good fuck, you never knew with Donald Trump, but in the end the guy had changed over the last twenty years or so and he was writing down a scripture from the Bible;
"Let's face it Sally, people love a good plot, so do I, so do you." "The Democrats started the ball rolling and the media keeps applying the force to keep the Russian story everywhere." "If you skip ahead Sally the DNC will lose everything and the Clinton's will be in prison so I'm ready for their action." the President was a little angry now as his dialogue was a little more dramatic, she had known him for years and he tended to show his emotions if you knew him well enough.
CNN, ABC, CBS, NBC, MSNBC, The New York Times and at times FOX News are being battered everyday by the American public and Sally knew people relished a great story but in the end they wanted the truth.
Sally's strong sense of honesty made her a top reporter and her syndicated columns were must read in Los Angeles, New York City, Miami, Washington D.C, but most importantly in every little middle class town across America.
The Washington D.C. swamp, both Republicans and Democrats were trying to stop Donald Trump and the American People, even a terminated F.B.I. Director.
The colorful Donald Trump had become president because the country needed a Donald Trump at this moment in time. The political swamp was a dangerous place and now the Democrats and Republicans could smell the fire smoke from the brush fire that Donald started. They were scattering and running away from the fire but Sally knew the President had a ring fire going, he was going to get them all.
CNN, ABC, CBS, NBC, MSNBC, The New York Times always missed the "Trump Point" of the open market thinker, the business guy, the cut your throat and let you die Donald Trump, that guy that Sally had written about for years.
"Mr. President, they picked the time and place for the fight, what do you think?" Sally noticed that it looked like the President was sleeping with his eyes open, she had seen that before, he was lost in his thoughts.
"Mr. President, every barrage of propaganda batters the White House, every wave floods out your plans. What's you plan Mr. President?" she fingered the huddled clump of French fires and Sally picked out and ate another as President Trump relaxed and started talking again.
"Sally, James Comey is giving the impression that he has created." "It's like a little girl writing in her diary, full of abstract ideas, thoughts and disconnected facts."
"The turbulence is being picked up by the Media, but the people see the emptiness of his testimony Sally, the maze of crooks won't stop until the people stop them and that's why they elected me."
"Mr. President, when does the swamp get drained?"
"Fuck, I don't know Sally, ask the fucking Russians!"
President Trump and Sally laughed out loud, maybe a little bit too loud as the descriptive power of the word "fuck" never stopped amusing Sally.
President Trump noticed the silver ring on Sally's hand "I see you're being swayed Sally, so who's the mystery man?"
Sally could see the phone being slipped to the President before she could respond.
Sally had the nose of a hunting dog, and she smelled something in the Presidents change in tone and body language.
The tension was building as President Trump was listening more and talking less as he got up and walked away from their private corner table.
President Trump never came back to the table but he did wave goodbye to his long time friend Sally as the shadowy movements of his secret service detail came to full life.
Sally felt like she was caught in a time warp, one minute talking to the real President Donald Trump and now watching CNN flipping rumors into news.
The waitress was a brunette who reminded Sally of a girl she knew in college years ago with a dishtowel in one hand a Sally's fresh drink in the other.
It was a cool crisp day, sunshine and nice so she got up and paid the tab for her and Donald Trump and a twenty for that waitress. She thought about writing her story but she decided that eating dumplings in Chinatown would be more fun.
Sally understood the political games and she would write about Donald Trump being elected and F.B.I. James Comey being hired. It seems that the fired F.B.I dick didn't understand the difference.
She put a big circle around the Bible scripture that Donald Trump wrote down in her notebook.
Maybe her story would start with those words, not belonging to Sally and not belonging to President Donald Trump, maybe from somebody a lot smarter than both of them combined.
The scripture that President Trump wrote down for her, it was like a love letter found tucked away into some old library book or maybe a note found in last week's paper and it made Sally smile, looking at her new silver ring.
He had got her attention.
Finally, she admitted Donald Trump made her feel safe.
Hesitantly she narrowed her eyes to avoid some of the brightness outside and her famous smile tugged on her as she nodded to the next yellow cab in line.
What the Hell, dumplings in Chinatown.