$6 check

dream this morning:

sitting in a booth in a restaurant. donald trump slides in the seat across from me. people are gathered around, gawking. jeff sessions comes up to ask him something. he leans towards him, but without looking at him says "get me a drink."
so jeff sessions runs off. trump's jawing with the crowd, smiling and winking and numbnuts stuff. i am trying to figure out wtf i'm going to say. jeff sessions returns with some sort of colorful fruit cocktail with celery sticking out of the top. immediately trump berates him, "why didn't you bring one for this guy? i can't just drink in front of people? jesus!" so sessions demurely backs away and brings another fruit cocktail. "that'll be six dollars, sir"
"six dollars? jesus you think you would have covered it!" trump seethes. "get me my checkbook!" he says to no one in particular. seconds later a faceless suit hands him an open folder containing multiple designs of personal checks. trump, still smiling at the crowd, picks one and tears it off the top.
"see, i pay with a check, and then later i can get my money back, saying it was fake!" he says proudly as he writes a $6 check.
i flipped out. said a bunch of really terrible things that i shouldn't put in print. stuff about paying his bills, and telling the truth and paying whores and being a general ignoramus on every possible level. everyone gasped. his eyebrows raised and you could see he was trying to figure out how to punch back. i can't remember the rest, but i felt a little better.

then i woke up