You’ve all heard the story of how the Clintons stole silverware, artwork, gold bullion, tapestries — whatever the prevailing theory was the day you heard it — from the White House upon their departure. The tales, however insidious, were hilariously false of course. But there were pranks that definitely were played that got nearly as much attention. For example, staffers for the Clintons meticulously removed almost every “W” from every keyboard on the premises. It was, after all, the abbreviation Bush the Younger would be affixed with in short press releases, breaking news, and even a movie title.
But those stories are from a time when America was still deeply rooted in reality — rather than what appears to be reality television.
Now when I wake up and there’s no news of someone in the Trump administration doing something you might see in a John Landis film… Well, those days are now the exception and not the rule. So when the Wall Street Journal — stodgy, erudite, conservative-leaning — reported on Friday that former press secretary Sean Spicer had stolen a mini-fridge from his staffers almost immediately after he started work for Trump, it seemed almost like tattling.
But I like a tattle-tale if the tale is funny, honestly, and Sean Spicer earned the nickname I usually referred to him as with both his words and actions every single day: Shady Spice. So here’s the relevant excerpt from the Journal, as long as we’re borrowing:
Less than a month into his new job, White House press secretary Sean Spicer needed to keep his food and drink cold. He wanted a mini-fridge.
He dispatched a top aide to a nearby executive office building where junior research employees are crammed into a room, surviving on Lean Cuisine frozen lunches. Mr. Spicer wants your icebox, the aide said, according to people familiar with the incident. They refused to give it up.
So Mr. Spicer waited until sundown—after his young staffers had left—to take matters into his own hands. He was spotted by a fellow White House official lugging the icebox down the White House driveway after 8 p.m.”
The man who hid in the bushes. Mister Holocaust Centers. The dude that ludicrously insisted you stop believing your lyin’ eyes about the size of Trump’s, uh, inauguration. That guy straight up stole a fridge from some kids.
When the Trump years finally make it into a Netflix original series, I want to play myself, so I can laugh as hard on camera as I am at my desk right now.
Featured image via Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images