A Day with Trump

Our Conservative Capitol Correspondent follows Donald Trump around to produce his exclusive report: A Day with Trump.

By Llib Epot, Conservative Capitol Correspondent
A Day with Trump at Mar-a-Lago
Photo: Jud McCranie, own work, CC BY-SA 4.0.

Dateline: Mar-a-Lago — The following is my personal account, “A Day with Trump,” a day spent following close on the heels of the still-President of the United States, Donald J. Trump, as he goes about his highly charged daily life.

6am: The east patio, Mar-a-Largo estate, Palm Beach, FL

“Donald Trump,” said Lindsey Graham expansively, is the best thing to happen to Republican politics since sliced, white bread, believe you me!”

“I second that, Senator,” said Tim Scott from a kneeling position, where he was applying shoe polish to former President Donald J. Trump’s golf shoes.

“C’mon, darkie,” snarled the ex-president with a scowl, “apply it evenly, else I’ll get Matt Gaetz to do the job. I’m on television tonight and I’ve got to look my best.”

“Yessir, Mr. Trump,” said Scott obediently.

President Trump corrected The Man.

“Yessir, President Trump,” agreed Scott, briskly applying the polish.

“Lindsey,” barked Trump, addressing the senior senator from S. Carolina, “feel like a little golf this morning?”

“Yessir, Mr. President, chirped Graham happily, “a round of golf sounds great!”

“Good. I need a caddy.” Graham’s face fell. “Grab my clubs!”


Out on the first green, our foursome was interrupted by a twosome who wanted to play through. At the rough, an elaborate litter carried by huge Black men deposited a wizened white man and an obese Black fellow with white hair. The pair putted out and climbed aboard their conveyance and were soon on their way. I glanced over my shoulder; in the near distance, a coterie of beefy Secret Service men kept their eyes on us.

“Huh!” muttered Trump. “Clarence Thomas. Who was that with him?”

“Harlan Crow,” replied Graham, handing Trump his putter.

Peering at the 40-ft. putt, Trump remarked, “That’s a gimme.”

“I agree, Mr. President,” said Graham and Scott in unison, rolling their eyes.


Seated now at the vast inlaid marble table in the al fresco patio, Graham, Scott and I studied our menus. But Trump scooped them out of our hands and told us he would order for us. Unlike the other times I’d dined at Mar-a-Lago, the president announced it was “My treat.” In short order, a uniformed delivery boy from Grub Hub arrived and dispensed Big Macs, fries, and diet Cokes. We dined sumptuously on presidential comestibles.

In the sanctum sanctorum, the Trumps’ private quarters at Mar-a-Lago, the richly appointed furnishings were predictably spectacular. Trump offered us a tour. The bed was huge: easily the size of the 125-yd. nine hole on the golf course. Trump remarked cryptically that he and Melania often putted out but that on occasion she allowed him a mulligan. As he chuckled darkly, the rest of us exchanged nervous grins. The bathrooms were festooned with gold appointments: golden bidets, faucets and shower fixtures and a gold lame shower curtain. A Hispanic attendant stood in the bathroom, handing out towels.

7pm, Fox News Studio, Miami, FL

That evening, true to his word, Trump was on television, on a live townhall meeting on Fox News. The 60 minute program was hosted by Sean Hannity, one of the president’s most loyal acolytes. On air, Trump discussed his “Enemies List,” a roster compiled by advisors Steve Bannon and Reichsfuhrer Steven Miller. Unfolding a long scroll, Trump read from the list:

“Nicolle Wallace
The New York Times
Jeff Bezos
Taylor Swift
The Biden Crime Family”

and so on…

“These are all,” declared Trump, “enemies of the people,” and he drew a finger meaningfully across his throat.

“Mr. President,,” asked Hannity nervously, “you’re not suggesting that any mischief befall these Americans?”

“Of course not,” replied Trump, winking and mugging for the studio cameras. “But, if any patriots should happen to take matters into their own hands, I want them to know that I’ll pay their legal bills…”

“Go to commercial,” whispered Hannity furtively.

Early A.M. next day

We’ve been in the Trump family living quarters since 11pm; it is now a quarter to four in the morning. Lindsey Graham lies snoring softly on the sofa and in a corner, Sen. Scott continues to polish Trump’s vast collection of shoes. He is sweating profusely. Just two more hours and our Day with Trump will be at an end. The President, as advertised, does not sleep much. He is just now clicking on his 200th post on Truth Social.

“Do you have any breaking news for my news organization, Mr. President?” I asked Trump, taking out my notebook.

“That depends, Epot,” replied Trump, “on whether you can get me the cover of Humor Times.

“I can almost guarantee it, Mr. President,” I said.

“Okay then. I’ve decided to wed. I done kicked Melania to the curb. I’ll bury her next to Ivana at the ball washer near the 9th pin at Westminster.”

“Then who will it be?” I asked. “Who have you chosen?”

Trump smiled and his complexion shone with the healthy glow of a navel orange. Then he told me.

Donald J. Trump and Marjorie Taylor Greene will be married in a ceremony at Mar-a-Lago on Jan. 6, 2025. Matt Gaetz will give the bride away and Steve Bannon will be best man. Florida Governor Ron DeSantis will serve as bridesmaid and the service will be conducted by Justice Samuel Alito. The couple will honeymoon in the Ozarks.

Bill Tope