It was a chilly evening in NYC. My husband and I were invited to have dinner with my then”new agent” (one of many, indeed the worst) at one of the city’s hip new restaurants.
In those days, I had calmed down considerably. It took a lot for me to go out and mingle with the masses. A dinner on display, which is exactly what it would be, made me cringe. Even married, a woman in the fashion industry is always on exhibit. It is part of the game. Looking good, in the right places. With luck, you are the one who is magnetic enough to suck the energy right out of the room and attract the art director, movie star or business mogul.
The night in question, we met the agent (thieving scumbag) at the latest swanky joint. After being whisked through the desperadoes that were standing behind the velvet rope, we were directed to the VIP section of the restaurant.
There they were.
Asshole agent, Recent Italian Divorcee (Playboy- he had just taken one of my fellow models literally to the cleaners) Donald Trump, and his girlfriend Melania.
I almost did a quick runner out the door. Yuck. Not my kind of dinner companions.
The agent was thrilled. He jumped up to introduce us, referring mainly to Trump as if he was one to honor and respect.
“Sit down already. I know these guys. Hey, Donald. Pleased to meet you, Melania. And you, Tomaso, didn’t you just get divorced?”
Nervous chuckles from idiot agent. My husband was probably nervous too. I knew a lot of people in those days, still, do, frequently forgetting to mention who’s who in my little black book drives him crazy.
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.
He used to throw parties at his place in Mar-a-largo in Palm Beach. He would have buses charted that would ferry models to and fro from Miami. Frankly, most models will attend the opening of an envelope. Poor, attention starved and up for a thrill, models make perfect party fillers.
No, I never attended one of his parties. EVER.
From the moment I laid eyes on him, he gave me the creeps. But I did see him throughout the years.
Christmas parties, model parties, art shows. I knew him when he was married to Ivana, screwing Marla Maples (literally and figuratively), divorcing Ivana, buying the air space above the Tiffany Store in NYC, naming his new baby daughter with Marla, Tiffany.
Divorcing Marla, dating Melania …. oh god, that guy was always slithering around.
Melania, I must say she was a pleasant surprise. Articulate and down to earth. I was impressed with her, beyond ecstatic that she was sitting to my right. Donald was to her right. The Playboy Tomasso to his right, the scumbag agent to his right, my husband holding them all in place, like I was at the other end of the horseshoe booth.
When my husband left the table to use the men’s room, the Donald, reached right over his date and her dinner plate. His puckered insolent mouth suggested that I leave my husband behind, because, well, Tomasso, the recent divorcee, really had the hots for me. We could all go back to the penthouse and have some fun.
It was at that point I threatened to remove Donald’s left eye with my fork. What a rude man.
It was also at that point that Donald was put in the same category as O.J. Simpson, in my mind’s file of douche bags.
I knew O.J. And guess what? O.J. suggested the same thing.
Both of these “men” had dead eyes. Evil eyes. Hungry eyes.
For them, women are snacks.
Donald did not grab my “pussy” that night or any other night, but what he did do is confirm the fact that some men in power are just as scary as psychopaths.
The fact that HE is running for president and garnering votes from women is beyond me.
I know that look. Those lips. That stupid finger. This is a game he is playing.
Do not get on the bus.
If you do, you will just be one of the many nameless individuals that he will chew up and spit out, without a second thought. Pussy Grabber.
Donald, you are a ruthless predator. A prime example of what is wrong in the world.
*Sadly, Donald Trump became the 45th President of the United States of America on January 21, 2017.