I had a strange dream last night: I received a job offer from Donald Trump, for some kind of suit & tie job at Trump Tower. The job offer was on paper and had lots of pen-ink revisions on it, and I was anxiously reading it over, confused by its contents and verbiage, while Trump patiently awaited my answer. (The dream did not get to an actual salary figure.)
I accepted the job offer, upon which Trump treated me, my girlfriend, and a couple of other people to a celebratory steak dinner somewhere in NYC. It was an average tasting steak, nothing special. When we were done eating, I went to use the bathroom. I passed a busboy who had cleared our table. He said to me: “I hope you liked that steak, it was $2,000!”
