Skip to content

Dinner with Donald Trump

I met him in 1988. I was fresh off the plane, fresh new meat.
We met at a party thrown by my agency.
I will never forget him. Pinched lips and all.
Notoriously gregarious, Donald was always in attendance when there was a fete where models could be counted as a dime a dozen.
I remember him cruising the crowd. Surveying the landscape. I knew from day one that he was a womanizer.

Published inWriting