Promising Young Trucker
A story of a flag at a rally.
They didn’t really know who Chad was. They didn’t even know his name was Chad. The new Facebook account he contacted them with used the name Kevin. They’d crap themselves at the real him on Twitter, but so many of these climate alarmists were crusty old hippies that he figured they’d more readily trust someone they met through the old people’s social media.
He’d been at a rally with his uncle. Those damned liberals wanted to take away their guns while giving their jobs to immigrants, and they weren’t going to stand for it. One of his uncle’s drinking buddies brought a swastika flag. The Left Wing Media made a whole thing about it, like that meant everyone there was a card carrying Nazi. It was just one guy. Chad’s great grandparents lived here before World War Two was even a thing. He didn’t have anything to do with Nazis. He didn’t even have a drop of German blood in him. He was just there because they were letting in too many immigrants, and to stand up for his freedom. There were parents with kids there, for god’s sake. His girlfriend baked cookies and was there giving them away. But the media only talked about that one guy, showed that one image, like nothing else that they had to say counted because of that one piece of cloth.
