Trump called me naïve. He told me I didn’t know what I was talking about. He shamed me when I stumbled on a question. And when the cameras shut off, he was furious. He didn’t like my questions, which were direct, or my tone, which was conversational.
“You couldn’t do this,” he said, searching for a put-down. “You stumbled three times.”
“It doesn’t matter if I stumble,” I said. “I’m not running for president.”
That’s when he landed what he saw as the harshest insult of all.
“You’ll never be president,” he said. I laughed. What else was I supposed to do?
This is both fascinating and not at all surprising.