Don't You Want a Picture?

At 10am, right on time, he emerges into the lobby alongside a tall, white-haired man in a black suit. He doesn’t say hello, exactly, but sort of sings it. He smiles and squints, and the sound seems to slip out the side of his face. His voice is lilting, almost cartoonish. We shake hands – and I go to take my seat.

Trump looks confused.

“Don’t you want a picture?” he asks me, as if he doesn’t know why I haven’t suggested it yet. “Come here, Katy.”

OK, this is awkward. I don’t want a photo.

[...]

I’m not sure it’s a good idea to tell him no but at the same time … why in the world would he think I want a photo? I’m not a fan. I’m a journalist. This is a network news interview.

  Guardian

Because, Katy, EVERYbody wants their picture taken with The Donald.

So I say yes.

Of course you do.

“You know my whole life has been a win, you understand that,” he says.

And so the interview begins.

[...]

We shake hands and it’s over.

My muscles start to relax.

That went OK.

Wait. Did it?

Suddenly, Trump is yelling at me.

“You better air that interview in full!” he says. “You’re going to edit it. Deceptive editing. I know what you guys do. Deceptive editing!”

[...]

“You stumbled three times,” he says.

He says it as if I killed a puppy.

“It doesn’t matter if I stumble. I’m not running for president,” I say.

What’s with the hostility?

He looks me straight in the eye and lands what he must think is the harshest insult of all: “You’ll never be president!”

Neither will you.

Thankfully, I bite my tongue before the words are out. Hope Hicks interjects: “He’s a presidential candidate. You can’t speak like that to a presidential candidate. It isn’t respectful.”

[...]

My “six-week assignment” is now six months of everdeepening weirdness between Trump and me. After the “you’ll never be president” episode, he’s jogged between berating me and buttering me up.

Apparently, it's okay now to write anti-Trump articles and books. Or, maybe it's just that now's the time to cash in on anti-Trump writing.

This is The Guardian's article on new book by TV journalist Katy Tur.

His mouth seems to have two positions. One is a perfect oval, where his words seem less pronounced than ejected. The other is a straight line that cuts his face in two. No teeth, lips stretched. Self-satisfied.

Bingo.

Click the image below for a sample of the book at Harper-Collins.

...but hey, do what you want...you will anyway.