“Later that afternoon, frustrated that my days of preparation may be in vain, I walked into a place I regularly frequent and was accosted by a guy I don’t know very well, but who somehow knows me.
He stood up, pointed a pudgy little finger at me and shouted, “How’s your boy Obama doing after getting creamed in that election? That’s what happens to Muslims in this country when they pull shit like Benghazi and the IRS stuff.””
That writer is delusional. . .
Probably never happened.
I have never heard a political discussion at a holiday gathering. Ever.