I can’t stop staring at this photo of Trump walking Macron like a little puppy.
The “leader” of the “free” world grabbed hold of the French president’s hand and led him through the colonnades like he was a tiny little brother whom he was tasked with keeping out of traffic and I have so many questions. Thank you for calling on me; my questions include: Why? For what reason? Who will pay for my eye bleaching? And what time is the next flight to Mars?
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This photo feels like the perspective is off and yet it is reality, so there’s a metaphor to ruminate on or whatever. Why is Trump so big and Macron so small? Why am I in this universe at all? Why does the sun go around the moon? Why does the snow come down in June?
I’m looking at this photo when I feel like I’m staring at a still from a mind-bending Donnie Darko knockoff. I am physically at work but mentally I feel like I am possibly tripping, so someone alert HR, please.
Want to never sleep again? Here’s Macron inexplicably grasping Trump’s index finger with his whole hand.
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Hello HR? Me again. I have to call out of work today because I am seismically uncomfortable.
Seriously, what scenario precipitated this finger-grab. Is this diplomacy? Why didn’t anyone tell me that Model U.N. involved so much awkward hand-holding? I would have paid a lot more attention.
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Here is another photo of the two of them together:
I’m just kidding. Apologies to literally everyone involved. For everything.
Later in their meeting Trump helpfully brushed lint or dandruff off of Emmanuel Macron’s suit with a delicate touch of his just-grasped index finger.
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What a wonderful display of the ways that human beings actually touch each other. How sweet, how caring, how peculiar. I love the way that Emmanuel Macron gazes at Trump gratefully. What must it be like to be in Macron’s (possibly flaky) headlights. The look of devotion is almost too pure.
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Merci for taking care of my tete and shoulders.
Look, I’m sorry to do this to you, but if I had to see it, you needed to as well. Quite a different body language story from last week’s Macron-Le Bae meeting at the snack buffet, n’est-ce pas? Quelle horror, amiright?
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What an amuse bouche of Bae. Unfortunately, it’s been replaced by a dinner plate of do not want. That old monde is gone. All that remains is strange hand-holding and finger-grasping. Hello HR? Better make it the rest of the week, just to be sure.
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