America’s wedding ceremony with Trump is over, but the honeymoon was completely skipped. 

The lovely bride—let’s just call her Donetta T. Rump—had been so convincing before the wedding. You understood that this was going to be the start of a new life and that the entire world would be your oyster. This was the woman you had dreamed of; she was the completion of everything you wanted and everything you hoped to become.

From now on, it would be those warm, passionate nights of gazing up at the stars; the magic of looking into each other’s eyes as you tripped the light fantastic and dined on escargot and caviar; the rushing warmth of having her swooning in your arms; and, we can’t forget, a lifetime of the magical sexual delights that had been so mind-blowing during the months of an intensely passionate courtship. Considering Donetta’s innocence, she really did have a special gift when it came to pleasing her man.

As she’d emerged from her dressing room, she looked so incredible—the blushing, orange-haired bride in the stunning, plunging, white organdy gown she’d picked as a symbol of her purity and innocence. Its almost-transparent sheer elegance revealed the wild promise of the honeymoon ahead, and the tiara of diamonds had been exactly the right finishing touch.

Naturally, the ceremony had been divine as you exchanged those words about “in sickness or in health” and “forsaking all others.” There had been that convincing, telltale tear, tracing an almost invisible orange line over Donetta’s cheek and lips. The wedding ceremony had been attended by the nation’s most favored guests, and all had toasted to the prospect of “forever.”

As Donetta and you exchanged your “I dos,” there had been a collective sigh that spread, in a wave, over those in attendance, and the marriage was solemnized by diety’s anointed. After the reception, the blushing bride announced to her groom, “Enough of this silly, fairy tale fantasy! I’m going to have a drink and then head over to my boyfriend’s house. You didn’t really think that I could be so stupid to actually love you?”

Your heart, despite the frequent indictments that men don’t even have one, comes crashing down. And Donetta, whom you’d stupidly believed a virgin, is off frolicking with her other swingers.

It’s a pretty harsh story—certainly not the fairy tale of true love forever. And it’s now time to collect what’s left of you, and get the hell out of Dodge.

So, what’s new? The characterization of weddings as the solemnization of a bait-and-switch ruse is nothing really new. What is new is that, this time, we never even made it to the honeymoon.

How dumb could we have been? It was never intended, despite the gushing pronouncements of the bride, that the world would be our oyster or that everything desirable would be lavished upon us. Did we misunderstand something?

Yes. The characterization of the “world will be my oyster” only applied to Donetta T. Rump, also known as the Orange Witch of the West. The supposedly blushing bride will now have her way with every other man, proving that she refuses to be a partner in a real and committed relationship.

Of course, what I’m suggesting is that the Donetta T. Rump wedding with America is off to a particularly bad start. Even those who believed her earlier brags, that she would be bedding others—even on the wedding night—have been shocked by her behavior.

While most Americans understand that the U.S. really is due for some big changes, what’s happening is not at all what was expected. As part of the metaphor, let’s say that a meaningful reduction in consumer prices was symbolic of the promised sex, and that the promise to “Make America Great Again” was actually the reiteration of a skanky faithlessness that had always been there before.

What Donetta said under her sultry breath, in those moments of romantic magic, was: I will be faithful to the same paramours I’ve lain with in the past and, as for “forsaking all others,” that was merely the re-pledging of my loyalty to uber-rich buddies. F--ck the pathetic little boys who’ve been lusting after me all this time. The ridiculous idea that I could “honor and protect” meant absolutely nothing to me. Inflation? No jobs? A rising fear that their enemies are on their backdoor-step? Oh, the stupidity of the gullible.

“My groom was so honest and naïve. That’s why I hate him so much,” she confessed. “Those who think that it’s someone else’s job to look out for their interests will just have to look elsewhere. But, believe me; I really am the smartest bride in the world, and I intend to have the courts enforce every word of our pre-nup.”

As Donetta brags about the size of her diamond and the man she fooled, the groom is lamenting: “I divorced her the last time for good reasons. I can’t believe I went and did it again.”

Well, you know what they say . Fool me once; shame on you. But fool me twice, shame on me.

The author is a retired businessman, novelist, columnist and former Vietnam-era Army assistant public information officer. He resides in Riverton with his wife, Carol, and their adorable and ferocious dog “Poppy.”