"Trump’s getting impeached? I defy you to convince anyone at this cursed truck stop."
Writes Alexandria Petri , who seems to have ventured out of the elite cocoon to talk to some deplorables before condemning them for failing to match her opinion. This account of a perilous journey to the hinterlands appears in The Washington Post. She doesn't state where this truck stop is, so I'm not certain it isn't a satirical fantasy. I'm just reading the headline and glancing at the text, trying to find out exactly where this is, and I'm suspecting "cursed" is a clue that the place is her invention, the truck stop from hell. Now, I'm reading the text. I’ve been interviewing for what I figure is at least an hour — the clock on the wall is broken — and everyone I speak to still supports the president just as much as they did the day he was elected.... Who relies on a wall clock to know what time it is? That's your first clue. The old man at the end of the counter shakes his head when I tell him the president is beleaguered by scandal. He’s no