Back in 2006, President Donald J. Trump is supposed to have played a brief game of bump and shove with a porn star named after a bottle of whiskey.
Trump met Ms. Stormy Daniels, the star of "Sex Door Neighbors," when she was appearing with Trump at a celebrity golf tournament, an event that can best be described as "money porn." Trump finished behind most of the other players. In fact, Trump as beaten by former Vice President Dan Quayle, a man most Americans couldn't pick out of a box of jelly doughnuts.
Stormy could have told him (if she knew) that the problem with porn is that, if you do it long enough, you become a joke, and, if you become a joke, you can never be a serious person again. Ask Dan Quayle.
After meeting at the Green Grass Grossero Invitational, Trump and everybody's girl went someplace air-conditioned and entwined themselves in ways I sincerely hope are not forbidden by some of Kentucky's more serious preachers.
After the sex event, I'm sure Daniels felt the way I used to feel leaving my shift in a hotel laundry. Just another day at work. Trump no doubt felt the way I feel when I'm walking down the street and I find a $5 bill on the sidewalk. He didn't feel as good as I feel when I find $20, but he felt good.
When I find a $5 bill on the sidewalk, the first thing I do when I walk in the door is tell my wife I found a $5 bill on the sidewalk.
"Lucky you," she says.
OK, so maybe Trump didn't feel EXACTLY the way I feel when I find $5. I can hardly go home to my wife and say, "Hey, honey! I just did the hucklebuck with a porn star!"
If I say that, my wife looks at me and says, "Did you find $5 on the sidewalk?"
Trump had to keep it to himself, or at least he had to keep it from his wife. Maybe he told Melania he found $5 on the sidewalk.
If only he'd found $5 on the sidewalk. As it was, five short minutes of lovin' with the lusciously available Daniels cost him $130,000, or at least it cost somebody $130,000. Trump seems to have stiffed everybody in this deal.
And he didn't become a joke. He's not a joke now. That's the beautiful thing.
Oh, sure. The payoff got him through the election, as it was meant to do, but even now that the story is old enough to toddle around, breaking things, millions of hard-working Americans with jobs in banks, insurance offices and hotel laundries still put the guy on a pedestal twice the height of the tallest stripper pole in the land.
Stormy is a joke, of course, but Stormy was a joke when it started, and, like Trump, she can't tell the difference between people staring at her and people admiring her, so she's gonna be fine, and her career will roll on majestically until gravity defeats her.
Gravity will never defeat Trump. Saggy old men never get called "saggy old men" unless it's by bitter feminists who don't understand the things you have to do to make a living.
When I worked in a hotel laundry, far from the air-conditioned rooms upstairs, I used to come out at the end of the day smelling like sweat and soap and whatever had been on the sheets.
Me and Stormy, we know what it is to earn a buck.
To find out more about Marc Munroe Dion and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit www.creators.com. Dion's latest book, "The Land of Trumpin," is a collection of his enraged, saddened and funny columns from before during and after the most recent presidential election. It is available in paperback from Amazon.com and for Kindle, iBooks, Nook and GooglePlay.
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