President Donald Trump wound up an eventful Palm Beach weekend in a distinctly Trumpian way – ditching the press corps and sneaking away from Mar-a-Lago early Sunday for a light breakfast and round of golf with friends at his Trump International Golf Course.
No prime ministers, no presidents, no distinguished foreign visitors – just a guy from Queens with seven pals hitting a few.
Trump, said to be a better-than average golfer who usually shoots in the low 80s, played the course as part of two foursomes, accompanied by several Secret Service agents who rode ahead of, beside and behind the president.
“Hey, Dan, see anything strange about those clubs in the back?” one lunch guest in the club room asked another, pointing through the window to the golf bag in the trailing cart.
“Sure do. They have triggers.”
Yep, high-powered rifles nestled in there – just in case, heaven forbid, they are needed — with the woods and the irons and probably one of those little stubby pencils.
The golf club was quiet, almost serene, in comparison with the weekend hubbub at the Mar-a-Lago Club, where every seat and barstool is unavailable for the rest of the season, except for those members who were farsighted enough to reserve months ago.
The 30 or so members in the club room, most in tennis whites or golfwear, chatted amiably over their egg white omelets about golf scores and kids coming to visit for Easter. It could have been any country club anywhere, if not for the blockade of four black SUVs, the always-present ambulance, and the guys with earpieces stationed at various strategic points in and around the club, including one in the sand at the 18th hole’s water hazard.
While the president was wrapping up his game, a Secret Service agent carrying what looked like a mutated cricket bat came into the club room and wanded each guest while announcing that the president would be coming in for lunch shortly, and “please don’t take any photos while he is eating or approach the table unless invited."
Then, without the movement of the Secret Service which usually presages the presidential approach, he was there, soaked with sweat from three hours in the Florida sun. After removing his red baseball cap (club rule) and giving a shout-out to Patrick Park, his pick for ambassador to Austria who was dining with friends, he settled into his chair while the diners applauded.
He ordered a salad.
As Park and his guests left the table, he tossed off a goodbye.
Asked by one if he was coming back soon, he said, “Yes. I’ll be here for Easter.”
Oh, so next week?
“Is Easter next week?" he asked. Then rolling his eyes, said, “Well then, I guess I’ll be back next week."
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