#DinnerWithTrump Got it! Here's a 200-word story about having dinner with Donald Trump:

Dinner with Trump

The gold-trimmed dining room at Mar-a-Lago was exactly as I’d imagined—opulent, loud, and unapologetically extravagant. Trump sat across from me, waving off a waiter mid-sentence.

"Steak. Well done. Ketchup," he said, then turned to me. "You like steak?"

I nodded, unsure whether to talk politics or play it safe. He didn’t wait.

"You know, people don’t talk about how great the economy was. Record numbers. Unbelievable."

He leaned in, eyes narrowing. “What do you think of the media?”

I sipped my wine and dodged. “They do love a headline.”

He laughed. “That’s true. But they need me. Ratings go down without Trump!”

Dinner arrived—his steak charred, mine medium-rare. He poured ketchup like it was wine. Somehow, that was the least surreal part of the night.

Between bites, he talked golf, real estate, and “the art of winning.” Occasionally, he asked questions—but mostly, he waited just long enough to say more himself.

As dessert came—chocolate cake he praised as “tremendous”—he asked, “Would you do this again?”

I paused. “It was… unforgettable.”

He grinned. “That’s what they all say.”

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