Thread by @TiredOldWriter

Now for a little story I wrote this morning, called FEAR AND LOATHING IN TARIFFLAND: A DAY IN THE LIFE OF KARYN VON MAGA KOCHSUCKER.

Strap in. This is a long thread.

The morning sun rose like a bloated orange over the strip malls and foreclosed Applebees of the suburb, signaling another glorious day in Trump's tariff-ridden America. Inside a three-bedroom home, Karen Kochsucker groaned into her MyPillow and checked her phone.

Another headline about inflation. Another breaking news alert about China retaliating. Another ALL CAPS POST from Trump promising everything is fine.

Karen sighed, and smiled. It was worth it.

Sure, she was spending $200 more per week on gas, groceries, and basic survival, but

at least she no longer had to:
✔ Pretend to respect people with pronouns in their email signatures.
✔ Listen to college brats whine about "climate change" while drinking Starbucks out of plastic cups.

✔ See Target commercials with Black lesbian moms making her feel guilty for being a proud, mediocre white woman.
✔ Hear that goddamn word "Latinx" ever again.

✔ Watch protestors with pink hair scream about Palestine on TikTok while standing in front of a Whole Foods.
✔ Have to nod politely when a foreigner speaks Spanish in the grocery store, as if they belong here.

At 7:30 AM, she rolled into the Kroger parking lot, her Ford Explorer guzzling premium gasoline at $5.29 a gallon, courtesy of Trump's new tariffs on foreign oil. But she wasn’t mad.

If God had intended for America to buy oil from foreigners, he wouldn't have made Texas so big.

Inside the store, she picked up:

Milk: $9.49, thanks to tariffs on Canadian dairy.
Eggs: $7.99 a dozen, but at least she wasn’t funding AOC’s Green New Deal.

Romaine lettuce: $6.29 for a sad, wilting bag—because Mexican farmers stopped exporting to the U.S. after getting sick of being insulted by Fox News.
Ground beef: $12.99 per pound, because if beef were meant to be affordable, Jesus would’ve been a vegan.

The checkout clerk, a Gen Z gender-undetermined teenager, muttered Karen’s total: $187.39.

Karen smiled through gritted teeth. This was the price of patriotism.

Then she called the hotline to report the store manager for DEI criminal hires.

At 12:15 PM, Karen stopped at Chipotle for her usual chicken bowl—her one indulgence in these trying times.

But when the cashier rang it up, her jaw unhinged like a python on a meth bender.

$17.99.

She gasped audibly.

“WHAT?!” she shrieked.

The cashier, a blue-haired menace with a "Defund the Police" pin, stared at her blankly. (Why wasn't he deported yet?)

“Tariffs, ma’am. Everything from Mexico costs more now.”

Karen froze.

She could accept a $500 grocery bill. She could live with a two-hour wait at the gas station. But $17.99 for a chicken bowl?

No.

That was where she drew the line.

Her entire body trembled with righteous fury. She felt like Tucker Carlson watching a drag queen read a children’s book.

But then…she took a deep breath.

Karen thought of the bigger picture.

Yes, this was painful. Yes, it was humiliating. But at least… at least… she didn’t have to pretend that:

✔ Trans people exist.
✔ Black lives still matter.
✔ Public schools should be funded.

✔ Student protesters had any value to society.
✔ "Indigenous People's Day" should replace Columbus Day.
✔ Corporations should acknowledge Pride Month.

With that, Karen forked over her debit card, paid for the damn burrito, and left feeling proud.

At 6:30 PM, Karen’s husband Dave came home from his job at the factory, looking like a man who had just been told his 401(k) was being converted into Chuck E. Cheese tokens.

“Jim got laid off today,” he muttered, staring blankly at the kitchen counter.

“Why?” Karen asked, midway through cutting her now-$30-per-pound steak.

“Company says tariffs are killing business. Orders are down. The Chinese aren’t buying American steel anymore.”

Karen chewed slowly.

“Well, Jim should have prepared better,” she sniffed. “That’s the problem with people these days. No personal responsibility.”

Dave stared at her like she was an alien.

Karen smirked. She’d heard this kind of leftist whining before. People just wanted handouts.

She took a big sip of her now-$30 bottle of California wine and scrolled her phone. Trump had just tweeted something about how the EU was next on his tariff list.

Karen smiled.

Sure, her husband might lose his job.

Sure, she couldn’t afford guacamole anymore.

But at least she didn’t have to pretend to respect college protesters who thought they knew more than she did.

And that, she thought as she cut another slice of overpriced beef, was what really mattered.