What it’s like inside Trump Tower, the gaudy gold edifice that is the US president’s monument to himself
STONY-FACED and suspiciously watchful, they are willing to stare down any visitor who looks their way. The uniform proclaims them as members of the United States Secret Service. Fingers on the trigger of some ominous weaponry at their disposal – it is hard to believe this is central New York.
Then again, America can be a jumpy place at the best of times. And with Donald Trump now shaping so much of the nation’s destiny, it is easy to surmise there is an all-round harder edge to things.
However, the gun culture is still something of a shock for European eyes.
Trump Tower vies with other high-rise buildings in a battle to dominate the Manhattan skyline. A steady trickle of tourists from around the globe stare upwards trying to put this vast structure into some kind of scale.
They have come to see it partly out of curiosity. But for some it is also a quest to try to get a handle on the complex, contradictory and confusing personality occupying the White House.
And so the armed guards man the entrance with their guns and sniffer dogs. Bags and hold-alls are searched.
Then visitors are free to roam this vast marble temple to free-wheeling capitalism. The name of the man is everywhere. As the escalators whizz from floor to floor, the senses are bombarded with notices for the Trump Bar, Trump Cafe and Trump Grill.
Trump insignia is all pervasive. It adorns an array of T-shirts, caps, mugs, shirts, even car number plates. All are for sale. Among the maze of kitsch knick-knacks on offer are many replete with the slogan that defined his presidency: ‘Make America Great Again’.
There is even a book dubbed “the sexiest novel of the decade”. ‘Trump Tower’ by Jeffrey Robinson is a “super read” according to one enthusiast.
And for the politically committed there is a special shop that sells ‘official campaign merchandise’.
Would-be purchasers are assured “100pc of your contribution goes to the Donald J Trump for President campaign”. A woman from Arizona gushes her support for a politician who has divided her country like no other. “We pray God he will be re-elected,” she says to nobody in particular.
The Trumpian Irish connection is not ignored. Magnets carrying a picture of his ‘international golf links and hotel’ in Doonbeg, Co Clare, are among the paraphernalia on sale. A wistful picture of Irish greenery, complete with shadows of an evening sun, won’t do our tourism industry any harm.
His daughter Ivanka has some fashion merchandise for sale in the lobby. A range of handbags, from the modestly priced to the decidedly more expensive, are on offer.
Despite being one of the best-known buildings in the entire United States, the number of slightly bemused tourists hiking around the huge tower was surprisingly sparse. Some seemed embarrassed should they be seen to be actually buying anything. Perhaps they felt any kind of purchase was a political statement too far.
But undeterred the Trump Bar was making a special pitch for more business. A large sign proclaimed a ‘happy hour’ Monday to Friday with reduced prices for beer, wine, and cocktails.
Outside the 58-storey building, the traffic throbbed through Fifth Avenue. Yet within the cocoon inside there was a strange feeling of detached reality. But politics apart, this and other high-profile structures the president owns in the heart of New York are surely testament to his ability to earn stacks of cash.
His critics insist these are nothing but trite and triumphalist structures, all part of a desperate search for approval and affirmation they maintain has thwarted his emotional life. Trump dismisses such jibes.
If he is deigned to be super wealthy, then why shouldn’t he flaunt his millions? His tangible presence by way of such monuments in the world’s most vibrant city carry a powerful message of their own.
Overall, it was a rather typical 24 hours in his presidency. He spent some time indulging a ‘bromance’ with visiting French President Emmanuel Macron while fighting his endless battles with assorted domestic enemies. All the while he tweeted his latest thoughts and taunts.
In the background, ex-FBI director James Comey was on the starting blocks for a nationwide publicity tour to promote his book ‘A Higher Loyalty’. In it, he famously describes as unfit for public office the man who unceremoniously sacked him. Trump in turn ridiculed his former security chief as a “slimeball”.
FOR his part, Comey has been condemned as being too selfsatisfied and self-serving in his outpourings. But he is certain to make a lot of money in his newfound role as an author. There is an insatiable market for all kinds of purported insights into the mind of Donald J Trump. Every ‘New York Times’ non-fiction bestseller so far this year has been about the president.
Even in the tower this sense of intrigue surrounding Trump was evident. A Japanese tourist enquired from a sales assistant if the president ever came to visit. “Not so much these days,” she said. “Have you ever met him?” he enquired in slightly hushed tones.
“Oh sure,” she replied. “I worked in one of his places down in Florida.”
“So you kind of know him,” said the visitor hopefully.
“Well, not really, but I do know one of his secrets,” she remarked. She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “He has a big weakness for mint chocolate – and it’s something he is a bit ashamed of.”
For some reason we all somewhat nervously looked around. But nobody else was listening.