A Day In The Life Of A Trump Voter

Art by Milk

Disclaimer: what follows may not be the typical experience.

The Trump voter awakes at five in the morning, groggy and wishing he had gone to bed earlier than he did the previous night. He vows to not make the same mistake on this date — he will.

After his morning constitution, he drinks the God-awful tasting local supermarket brand of coffee he bought to save money on. He eats some microwavable breakfast bowl that looks nothing like what the box image said it would and tastes even worse than the coffee.

He heads from home to work in a car that he should really replace already, but he doesn’t have the money or time to. On the way there, he passes by a brand new car with a “BERNIE 2016” bumper sticker that makes him groan in disgust. He then gets cut off road by a convertible driven by a young man blasting hip-hop. Ugh, that music. When he arrives at work, he notices the janitorial staff leaving, all clearly immigrants. They’re all on welfare, he thinks. HIS money.

He works at a factory. Has worked there for years. Manual work, nothing like his supervisor’s cozy office room.

When at work, he daydreams during off periods, silently thinking to himself about how useless he feels his life has become. Doing the same thing over and over again on a near daily basis will do that to someone. He dreams about being on vacation somewhere instead of working his butt off for a measly $12.74 an hour — that idiot boss of his won’t give him that raise.

The Trump voter has been advised by friends and family to leave his current work situation, but, like the car he badly needs replacing , he tells himself he doesn’t have the time.

The Trump voter only has half an hour of lunch so he eats some quickly made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches made that morning paired with a juice box of a juice flavor he doesn't even like. The monotony of having it regularly has allowed him to be numb to its lack of taste.

After a long day of hating his current life’s mission, the Trump voter heads back home after the factory closes down for the day at a time he thinks may be an hour or two longer than when he’d call it a day were he in charge.

Every now and then the Trump voter stops by to pick up some Arby’s, and turns on the TV as soon as he gets home to catch the latest episode of “American Idol” or “Dancing with the Stars” with his wife.

Unlike him, the Trump voter’s wife does not make the mistake of staying up past her bed time. This allows him to watch the late night news on FOX, as his wife has grown tired of his opinionated thoughts on current events.

Free to fill his mind with the self selected information he wants to fill it with, he watches news stories of the violence ravaging inner street ghettos in Chicago confirming to him the African American community may be too dangerous for it’s own good. That’s followed up by a story on how Disney World is replacing American jobs with those foreigners he sees at work getting those higher paid office jobs he feels he deserves.

The Trump voter then decides to turn on the computer desktop he owns that still operates on Windows 2000. He stops by Infowars’ website and reads about how the President is transforming the country - something confirmed his mind by that evening's news reports. It makes sense to him that this all happening; after all the President was secretly born in Kenya and may probably be actually a Muslim governing a Christian nation.

The Trump voter eventually goes to bed, of course hours past when he told himself he would when he woke up. As he awaits sleep to come to him, laying in bed worried to fright about what his choice news sources have informed him about on this day, he begins to think about where the country is at.

The Trump voter thinks the ills of the country he remembers as great under Reagan or even Clinton are all due to the changing demographics and the problems that come with it. Those damn hoodlums in the streets killing each other off and impregnating young women. Illegals from Mexico crossing the borders and then leaving babies here that he has to pay for. Even worse, the fact (at least the fact in his own mind) they’re invading the workforce and are coming soon for the only job he has has him incensed.

The Trump voter sees Trump up on a stage insulting the very people he wishes he could insult to their faces too. What he sees is a man willing to “tell it like it is”. Someone with the attack instincts that spineless Republican party lacks.

Trump is soothing to him, makes him feel a little more in control in a world gone mad. His boss can’t do that. Those idiot elites who dare to be offended by Trump’s incendiary comments can’t do that. His wife telling him to get a grip and vote for someone serious won’t do that. That umpteenth straight cigarette hit that he suddenly feels compelled to get up out of bed for won’t do that.

As he calmly smokes on his porch, staring out into the darkness of the night, The Trump voter reassures himself about backing Trump. Trump is HIS guy. He wants to feel tough through HIS guy, bold through HIS guy, irresistible through HIS guy, brave through HIS guy, victorious through HIS guy, endowed through HIS guy, and whatever else he feels he lacks through HIS guy.

The Trump voter doesn’t stop and think of what he may be actually supporting. He thinks his anger at his own person failures will be fixed if the guy he watches on TV is in charge, and he’ll be able to take care of all those depressing news stories he saw reported on FOX News also.

The Trump voter thinks a billionaire will help him eventually get that raise. All those “deals” Trump is promising, they’re bound to lead to enough economic prosperity to force his boss’ hand right?

All that “winning” Trump promises could help him drink better coffee and avoid the juice flavors he force himself to drink for lunch’s sake.

Plus if anyone can fix the “wretched hive of scum and villainy” that has plagued Washington D.C, someone absolutely with no experience in politics should get the job done, no?

The cigarette now spent, the Trump voter returns to bed and his wife’s side. Sleep comes and he is at peace until that alarm clock awakes him hours before he would have liked to be awoken.

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