Some friendships are made in heaven — peanut butter and jelly, wine and cheese, Arsenal and heartbreak. Others are forged somewhere much, much warmer — like Donald Trump and Jeffrey Epstein.
The two were once spotted together at parties in the ’90s, laughing, drinking, and probably debating whether democracy was overrated. Trump famously said Epstein “liked women on the younger side,” which is the kind of understatement you only get from a man who thinks bankruptcies are a business strategy.
Now, to be fair, Trump has always been a man of interesting friendships. One day it’s Kanye West in a MAGA hat, the next it’s Rudy Giuliani sweating hair dye on national TV. But Epstein? That’s like choosing Voldemort as your best man because “he knows how to keep a party lively.”
Of course, when Epstein’s legal troubles came knocking louder than the FBI at Mar-a-Lago, Trump did what any loyal friend would do — he immediately distanced himself faster than you can say “fake news.” Suddenly, the bromance was over, like a reality show canceled mid-season.
The comedy writes itself:
Epstein: “Donald, we go way back.”
Trump: “I hardly knew him. Barely a friend. Maybe a pool cleaner. Could’ve been Melania’s Pilates instructor, who knows?”
Still, the image of Trump and Epstein together is burned into public memory, much like Trump’s dance moves to YMCA. And the awkward truth remains: Trump’s life has been a revolving door of dodgy acquaintances — Epstein, Giuliani, Steve Bannon, the MyPillow guy… it’s less a political entourage and more a casting call for a failed Netflix crime docuseries.
In the end, Trump and Epstein remind us of one simple truth: tell me who your friends are, and I’ll tell you how fast you’ll deny knowing them when the subpoenas arrive.
Centre for Nigeria Progress 