Rainbow Wraps (Part 1)

Former President Donald Trump was coming to Portland. Yes, Portland! Socialist Little Beirut, the wilted Rose City of sprawling homeless encampments, kickball leagues, rampant crime, cop haters, gender reassignment house calls, strip club cooperatives, fast food unions, and cannabis-toking, pinot noir-sipping, electric car-driving, recycling, naked bike-riding, soccer-loving liberals who ate $22 organic, blackened-beet, arugula hamburgers and didn’t have a problem with Antifa thugs vandalizing the beloved downtown elk statue.

Yes, Trump was on his way to the Oregon for a party fundraiser at the Pumpkin Ridge Country Club, a stop on the Saudi Golf Tour. On paper Trump was appearing to raise money for the Republican Party nominee for Governor in a tight three-way race featuring three female candidates. Her opponents were a gun loving independent who loved clearcutting every inch of Oregon’s forests and a Portland Democrat who probably hadn’t spent a single night in a campground.

In a rare three-way contest, the national GOP brain trust (yes, there is one) saw an incredible opportunity to win a governorship in the bluest of states and humiliate the Left Coast.

So the GOP sent Trump a big fat check and told him to take his show on the road and rile up commie land. He could even get in a quick round of golf on a championship course and nail the nominee or one of the stripper caddies (hired by the local mega church) in a utility closet.

Sure, technically a fundraiser for the nominee, but really a typical shakedown as part of Trump’s ongoing hustle of some of the dumbest Americans in American history. He got paid to deliver a canned hate speech, took a 20 percent of the gate, ten percent of donations to the candidate, a hundred percent haul of the merchandise, and charged PT Barnum suckers (including the nominee!) $1000 a pop for a photograph with their demi-god.

The juiciest part of the shakedown was the steep price Trump’s catering company MCGA, (Make Catering Great Again) charged the national GOP to cater the event. There was no such company. It was a front. Trump’s money machine contracted with a local catering company to do the job and then stiffed them, like he always did to the working class.

It was a short and sweet gig. Fly into Hillsboro Airport outside of Portland and whip up a crowd of nuts on the tarmac; a limo ride west to Pumpkin Ridge with the route publicized in advance so all holy hell breaks loose along the way; in the parking lot of the country club, private security goons crack a few Marxist heads; in the bloody aftermath Trump’s poll numbers skyrocket in the American heartland, which wasn’t the heartland at all. More like the bowel movement.

What a show they had planned for the fundraiser!

The lineup:

Juggler

Right Wing Mime

Free Bird (Lynyrd Skynyrd cover band)

Pillow Guy

Republican candidate for Governor

Herr Trump

Right before Trump came on, the band would play a set and the caterer would serve a rubber chicken circuit lunch. The menu:

Freedom Prime Rib

Patriot mashed potatoes and gravy

God’s green bean casserole

Slices of Wonder Bread

Dessert: red, white and blue jello parfait with shredded carrots.

It was a standard catering gig to feed hungry fascists bad food but when MCGA emailed a proposal to Portland-area caterers, not one company big enough to handle the expected rabid crowd responded. The Trump contract was an industry joke nationwide. You took the job, you never got paid. Ever. Some frothing fools in the Red states signed up anyway, for the privilege of serving their God and mammon. But, Oregon caterers, at least the ones in Portland, weren’t so stupid and slavish. Roseburg and Klamath Falls, yes, but not Portland.

A month before the event, Trump finally flew out an advance man to arrange a deal. He was a young pasty evangelical named Brian who apparently skipped the part about the Sermon on the Mount. Before traveling to Oregon, he conducted a little research and found one company had served Republicans for decades, including campaign rallies, conventions, election night parties and fundraisers—the Tom McCall Catering Service—a venerable, respected, family-owned business with a base of operations in Hillsboro, a mere half mile from Pumpkin Ridge.

The advance man was confused why this outfit didn’t pick up the contract. He didn’t bother to notice the company had stopped catering Republican events altogether after the election of Trump in 2016.

Brian decided he’d pay the Tom McCall Catering Service a visit and win them over with his personal charisma the super suckers in the Bible Belt gobbled up like roast beef in a dog dish.