It was strange seeing Governor Chris Christie spending all his free time waiting on a New York billionaire. He made his reputation as a New Jersey homeboy, proud son of the lesser state, a trash talking lawyer with a nasty streak and a chip on his shoulder. He didn’t take any shit but he sure as hell dealt it, and he wasn’t about to answer any of your stupid questions okay? The act played well on the national stage. People were at long last interested in Jersey politics.
So why he would go and do this? Play footman to a Big Apple phony? Was he really so miserable? Was he really so spineless? We may never know.
While minding my own business at the Starbucks inside the Westin hotel this morning, I saw a man engage Trump campaign manager Paul Manafort in conversation about the VP selection process. The man, whom I couldn’t identify, suggested that Pence was a smart pick and Gingrich would’ve been a disaster.
“Christie was livid, right?” the man said at one point. “Yeah,” Manafort replied.
He’s completely radioactive in New Jersey. He’s a cartoon character outside of it. Latching on to an outsider presidential ticket was the only thing he had left in the world.