“What do you think of him?” Donald asked.
“I said I was familiar with his abilities, and he had shortcomings. “To be honest, I don’t think he’s the best we can have,” I said. “I’d like to see him either come up to speed, where he can help me a lot more, or maybe there’s something else he can do.”
Instantly, Donald was enthused. “Yeah, I never liked the guy. I don’t think he knows what the fuck he’s doing. My accountants in New York are always complaining about him. He’s not responsive. And it isn’t funny. I’ve got black accountants at Trump Castle and at Trump Plaza. Black guys counting my money! I hate it. The only kind of people I want counting my money are short guys that wear yarmulkes every day. Those are the kind of people I want counting my money. Nobody else.”


I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. But Donald went on, “Besides that, I’ve got to tell you something else. I think that the guy is lazy. And it’s probably not his fault because laziness is a trait in blacks. It really is. I believe that. It’s not anything they can control .?.?. Don’t you agree?” He looked at me straight in the eye and waited for my reply.
“Donald, you really shouldn’t say things like that to me or anybody else,” I said. “That is not the kind of image you want to project. We shouldn’t even be having this conversation, even if it’s the way you feel.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “If anybody ever heard me say that .?.?. holy shit .?.?. I’d be in a lot of trouble. But I have to tell you, that’s the way I feel.”


https://www.newyorker.com/news/john-cassidy/what-myeshia-johnson-revealed-about-donald-trump