“And what about your bid for president? Is fucking the women you don’t hire part of your campaign platform?” Oh, she wasn’t going to be easy. I liked that. “Presidents fuck all the time.” I stared at her waiting for her consent. “And you’re not worried I’d go to the press?” She was softening. “Why would I be worried? If you went to the press it would end your political career and the bid for the presidency you so boldly said you’d go for in ten years. An indiscretion with a prominent congressman would pretty much crash a hammer down on that. Pearl-clutchers and finger-waggers around the globe
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No no no no If you were too drunk to drive you are too drunk to consent
