Sunday, July 17, 2016
Tomorrow’s the day! I’m so excited for my first Republican National Convention. I can’t believe it was only yesterday that I was working in a tiny office out of Gary and now I’m in CLEVELAND! I never thought I was a big city guy, but here I am. Just living-it-up. That said, I am pretty tired (so many time zone changes), so I’m gonna go to sleep. Gotta rest up so I can help MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!
Garry (from Gary! Gary, Indiana.)
P.S. Did I mention our hotel has a water slide?! Crazy.
Monday, July 18, 2016
Wow. Tonight was…unexpected. For one, I didn’t think I'd spend so much time underground. Kind of a shock. And cold! It was so cold. But someone has to dig the trenches. And that someone’s name is Garry (me). I don’t mind getting my hands dirty, especially if it means Mister Trump has a proper means of shelter in case of stray gunfire (Ohio is an open carry state—God Bless!). A little sad that I didn’t get to hear much of the speeches, what with all the digging. But just from taking a look at the list of speakers, I could tell it was a totally unique and original night. Always is with Mister Trump! Anyway, they just carried me up from the trenches (fumes), and—get this—gave me a real Trump Steak! And it was only 40 dollars. A bargain! Yum.
Can’t wait to continue this journey.
All my love,
Garry (from Indiana)
P.S. Some other staffers and I are going to check out the waterslide later! (Wowww!!!)
Monday, July 18, 2016 - Later
I think I ate something bad. Like, really bad. I didn’t know my body could do the things it did to that waterslide. And poor Denise...she was down water from me. She knows I couldn’t control it, but I can tell she’s still mad. I tried to explain no one would notice the smell down in the trenches. She wasn’t convinced. It was so weird though, because all of a sudden every one else started getting sick too. Like, for no reason! All we can agree on is how good those steaks were. Mister Trump—always so generous!
Anyway, I’ve been in the outhouse for 7 hours.
Garry (origin: Indiana)
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
So things have gotten even crazier since the last time I wrote you. The boss gave us all iodine, and after some purging, I think we’re all feeling a lot better! Can’t speak for Denise though. She won’t talk to me even after I apologized. Denise can suck it though, because guess what…I got promoted! Out of the trenches and into The Frying Pan for me! The Frying Pan is a fun nickname for the pre-speech toasting area. I’m in charge of tanning beds 5 and 6. Mister Christie was in number 5 tonight. He couldn’t stop crying, even with the heat index set to “Latin.” He wanted me to hold his hand, but I was worried he’d get an uneven tan so I didn’t. He cried for a while. You could tell it was because he was just so overcome with emotion for the excitement of the night. Anyway, I had to turn my attention away from Mister Christie because—get this—Donald Jr. chose tanning bed number 6! My other bed! What an honor. He walked up with such defined confidence, like a man out for the hunt, looking me straight in the eyes the whole time. So personal. He asked for “island fresh” and watched me intently as I turned the dial. Then he told me I had “beautiful lips” (what a unique compliment!) and that I should join him in there. Again, like, wow—so generous! Although I agreed that I needed the color (all that diarrhea had really drained me), I explained I had to man the dials. He understood completely. Such a pleasant man. And the best mood! I swear I could hear him singing in there. Not a great singer though. Too breathy.
Still really enjoying this!
P.S. Denise says Donald. Jr. gives that lips compliment to everyone. Must be his thing. Still feels nice to be included though. But also, eff Denise.
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
They say hindsight is 20/20. But what if you’re blind? From the flames. There were so many flames. Mister Christie should never have turned his dial all the way to “Black Lives Matter.” Maybe if Denise had been watching more closely…but Donald Jr. was seeking her counsel in tanning bed 6. All I can say is thank God we built those trenches for Mister Trump. Too bad about the crowd though. Thoughts and prayers to their families!
I hope the nurse changes these bandages soon. So itchy. Anyway, this has been a really fun experience! So happy I got to be here. Will have to figure out how to write again soon. They’re amputating my hands tonight.
All the best,
Garry (putting the “tan” in Indiana!)