BY LINCOLN ANDERSON | I met Donald Trump once. It was at the ribbon-cutting for his new Trump Soho condo-hotel at Spring and Varick Sts. in April 2010. Back then, I don’t think anybody had any inkling that he would one day be running for president.
The Soho Alliance and Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation had vigorously fought the construction of the 46-story behemoth — the Soho Alliance even sued in court — but The Donald prevailed.
What was most memorable to me about meeting Trump was his sort of goofy, breezy behavior when I was interviewing him. It was definitely a unique experience.
He cut the ribbon, along with his children, Ivanka, Eric and Don, Jr., the hotel’s development partners, Julius Schwarz of Bayrock and Alex Sapir, and Robert Lieber, the deputy mayor for Economic Development. Trump’s kids were going to have a role in managing the place. Trump then asked if there were any questions from the media, and seeing none, with a “Let’s get to work!” he started to walk off. I stepped up to him, though, before he left the room.
First, he basically mocked my approach, saying, “Oooh!” and making a silly face. O.K., whatever, I didn’t see any other reporters deigning to interview him.
Trump looked eager to talk to a reporter, though. When I told him that I worked for The Villager, he promptly said, in seriousness, “That’s a good paper.” The Trump seal of approval, for what it’s worth.
We had reported on the fierce neighborhood opposition to the project, along with the discovery of ancient graves on the construction site that belonged to congregants of an early abolitionist church that once stood there. And there also had been a catastrophic construction accident that killed one worker when a collapse occurred near the top of the tower.
My first question was how would the restrictive declaration covering condo owners’ use of their units be enforced? Stays at the hotel are limited to no more than 29 days in a row within a 36-day period, and 120 days total per year. Opponents suspected the building was a “Trojan horse” for residential use, since the area had a manufacturing zoning that allowed hotels but not residential use, which had led the City Council to put the restrictive declaration in place.
No problem, Trump stated, confidently: The length of stays would be monitored by “computer,” and it was, of course, a great system.
What about the fact that the building was so tall it could be seen sticking up like a middle finger from all over Downtown?
“That’s a good thing,” Trump stated bluntly.
Chiming in, Ivanka said it meant people inside the building would have excellent views when looking out. Ivanka seemed nice, but, umm, she totally missed the point — probably intentionally — by spinning that one the other way.
What of all the community opposition from Soho residents?
“They’re all our friends now,” Trump brashly assured.
“Everybody likes our building.”
Suddenly, a pack of photographers — many of them, doubtless, paparazzi — moved in and, sensing a money shot of the whole Trump clan standing together, started barking at me to back up.
“Your notebook’s going to be in the photo!” one of them yelled. “Get your notebook out of the frame!”
The camera-friendly Trump and Ivanka instinctively turned toward the photographers.
“Who is this f—-n’ guy?” Trump joked, waving me off with mock annoyance as the camera flashes exploded in a blinding blaze of white.
The photographers satiated, I then asked the mogul about a report that only one-third of the building’s 391 units were in contract to be sold. That question, though, he didn’t want to answer.
“O.K., I’ll see you later,” he said, then walked out of the room.
One photog asked me, “What did he say to you?” as if she wanted me to be outraged.
It wasn’t a big deal, I said. I assumed it was just Trump being Trump. But I realize now it was sort of par for the course with his M.O. of “insulting his way to the presidency.” I didn’t take it personally, and perhaps, in his own way, he was sort of trying to be funny.
But I have interviewed a lot of people, and, honestly, no one has ever acted quite like that. Most people don’t needle you the minute they meet you and then end an interview by saying, “Who is this f—-n’ guy?” and wave you off with feigned annoyance. Again, I think he was just sort of breezily making a joke of it all. But is it presidential behavior?
I bumped into Trump again in the lobby and again asked him about the building’s gargantuan size.
“We had a zoning that allowed us to build this tall, and we took advantage of that,” he asserted. “I think it’s going to be a landmark in New York.”
He assured that the place would “do records, in terms of volume and food.”
He then walked out toward his waiting black car in front, but first kneeled down in the entryway to pose for a photo with some little kids who were checking into the hotel with their parents.
“See!” Trump called back to me over his shoulder as he got up off of his knee. “This is business!”
My mom worked in the rough-and-tumble Garment District for decades, and I told her about my encounter with Trump.
“He sounds like a typical salesman,” she shrugged.
I work with a lot of salespeople. They basically put food on my plate. Trump, though, is in a league of his own.
As for the Trump Soho hotel and its “great” computer system, Andrew Berman, executive director of G.V.S.H.P, this week told me, “As far as we know, for years after it was built, the Trump Soho never conducted or provided to the city the required audits to prove they were abiding by the law regarding terms of stay and residential use. However, just to make sure responsibility is placed where it belongs, neither the city, nor former Council Speaker Christine Quinn and former Borough President Scott Stringer, who helped craft the agreement, ever asked to see a single audit, and the city never penalized the Trump Soho for not doing so.
“As you know, however, the Trump Soho was a giant financial failure, and according to press reports, they were changing from a condo-hotel operation — which obviously lends itself to abuse of the restriction against residential uses — to a traditional pay-per-night transient hotel, which the zoning allows; so the possibility of zoning violations, as well as the applicability of the original agreement requiring audits, may no longer apply.”
Asked his thoughts on Trump aspiring to be president, Berman replied, in part, “The Trump Soho was clearly a scam from the beginning… . I don’t think that anyone involved with this project is qualified to serve as dogcatcher, much less any higher office.”
After the San Bernardino terrorist shooting in December, when Trump called for a ban on Muslim immigration, I asked some local Muslim merchants around where I live for their thoughts about him.
Hassan, from Bangladesh, the night man at a deli on my corner, said clearly Trump is a rich guy who has always been catered to and just takes whatever he wants.
“He wants a woman, he just picks them,” he said, plucking the air with his fingers.
“That is a big chair — for the whole world,” he said of the responsibility of being U.S. president. Clearly, he was implying that a guy like Trump should not be sitting in that seat.
Subbir, another Bengali who is the morning cashier at a smaller deli next to Hassan’s, said of Trump, “He may win the Republican [primary]…but the American people… .” He didn’t finish the sentence, but I think most people could fill in that pause: “…are not really crazy enough to elect this guy.”
“Every religion has good and bad,” he added.
Azad, a younger guy who works at the second deli at night, recently told me he actually follows Trump’s page on Facebook, just to keep up with whatever whacky thing he is saying now. On his smartphone, he showed me one of Trump’s videos in which he calls the Mexican border “Swiss cheese” and talks about all the executive orders he would pass, if elected.
“It’s too much bad talking,” he said of Trump. “If he be the president, you should be more…,” he searched for the word, “you can’t talk like that: ‘Kill that people. Kill this people.’ It is American president. It is a big thing. He’s talking like homeless people. You should talk more carefully. If you be the president, you can’t talk like other people — you have to be more…”
“Responsible,” I said, helping him out.
“Yes,” he said. “No manners, no respect — nothing,” he said of Trump. “You can’t talk hard all the time. Sometimes, talk hard — sometimes, talk soft.”
Similarly, a barber from Uzbekistan down the street, said of Trump, “You have to be tough as president, but you also have to be nice. You represent the country.”
These guys are all recent immigrants. Their English-speaking ability isn’t perfect, but their comments are sane, sensible. This is what much of the world must think when they hear Trump bluster — a guy who is combative and reckless and simply not fit to be the leader of one of the planet’s most important countries.
I was sitting next to a French law professor recently on an Airporter bus to J.F.K., and asked him what he thought of Trump.
“Amusant,” he said, as in “entertaining, funny, amusing.”
Sure, Trump is a reality TV star, you can’t help but watch him. It’s funny for now, but if he were to be elected president? He didn’t know what to say about that. The far right in France — and, in fact, all Europe — is about 25 percent now, he noted.
The day after Trump racked up still more primary wins on Super Tuesday, I got a call from a distressed Frances Tallmer, the widow of the great writer Jerry Tallmer, who penned so many incisive talking points for us over the years on politics and all manner of issues.
“I’m scared, scared of Trump,” Frances told me. “Jerry would be having a bloody fit right now, and would be writing his hands and his fingers off. He’s dangerous, he’s dangerous,” she said of Trump. “If he wins, we’d be having war and be in big trouble in this country. He won’t stop. He’s a dictator. Honey, he’s a fascist, and he’s dangerous. Jerry and I are still connected — he’s telling me.”
I recently was catching up with Trigger, who runs the Continental cheap shots bar on Third Ave. There are some things he likes about Trump, he admitted, as he looked at me from beneath the brim of his Vietnamese rice paddy hat. But there are other things that really bother him, such as the candidate’s insensitive comments about people’s appearances, like when he dissed Carly Fiorina. I know, I told him, what kind of leader treats people like that? I mean — what? — would a Trump cabinet resemble something out of “The Stepford Wives”? On top of everything else, the guy just sounds so superficial.
Trigger also recalled he was once out at a fashion event and Trump was there with his current wife, Melania. Trump basically plopped himself down at the foot of the catwalk to better ogle the models, and just ignored his wife, according to Trigger, who found it disgusting.
Meanwhile, the Daily News front-page images of Trump as a clown and so forth remind me of MAD magazine. Yes, it is a mad political moment. …
Indeed, Trump, as everyone knows by now, is riding a wave of anti-establishment anger. I understand it — and I also feel it. After Hillary Clinton rolled up some big wins on Super Tuesday, I recently made my first-ever political contribution — to Bernie Sanders.
Hey, better keep an eye on those superdelegates!
