For supporters at Trump’s Las Vegas hotel, elation with a tinge of distrust

By Daniel Rothberg

Wednesday, Nov. 9, 2016 | 2 a.m.

Inside the Trump International Las Vegas Tuesday night, a devotee of the property owner’s presidential bid croaks out the first few lyrics of the "The Star-Spangled Banner": “O say can you see …” Soon the whole room is singing, and a man is waving his red “Make America Great Again” hat to the words of Francis Scott Key, surprised but elated at their candidate’s success.

Beginning around 8 p.m., the mood inside the lounge grew increasingly expectant as Donald J. Trump’s lead in the electoral vote widened and he was all but guaranteed to be the country's next leader. “I’m stunned, actually,” one supporter said to a group. “I thought (Hillary Clinton) was going to win."

After having been told for months that the election was rigged and stacked against Trump, the comments were all a variation on the theme. “Holy s---,” said one woman. “We might do this.”

Throughout the election, Trump’s auriferous Las Vegas building — looming over the Las Vegas Strip at 64 stories — was a magnet for rhetoric of the presidential race in Nevada. Packaged in buzzwords like “Chinese steel,” the tower provided a tangible distillation for many campaign themes: jobs, globalization, taxes and the relationship between employees and employers.

Frequently, Trump and his surrogates applauded the project for fueling job creation in the state. On the other side was Hillary Clinton, who cited the hotel in an attempt to expose Trump's contradictory interests when it came to imported Chinese steel: “The Trump Hotel right here in Las Vegas was made with Chinese steel," she said at the UNLV debate.

Then there was the Culinary Union, which called for a national boycott of all Trump-related businesses in September when management for the hotel refused to negotiate a contract nearly a year after federal officials certified the results of a union election (the National Labor Relations Board recently said the hotel violated the law by not coming to the bargaining table). It built a Wall of Taco Trucks outside Trump International during the third presidential debate at UNLV, alluding to Trump’s desire to build a border wall (and make Mexico pay) and the warning of a Trump surrogate who told MSNBC that immigration could lead to taco trucks on every corner.

But little of that seemed to matter to voters Tuesday when Trump defeated Clinton. The election touched on much deeper issues — many external to the candidates — that tapped into economic anxiety, distrust in institutions and national security fears, echoed in past years during Occupy Wall Street, the Tea Party movement and Brexit.

Despite the occasional chant of “build the wall” and cocktail chatter about health care premiums, few Trump supporters Tuesday night discussed these issues, but were all present in cathartic attacks on the mass media for their inaccurate projections — amid a sea of “Make America Great Again” hats and in the very disbelief that Trump could be allowed to be elected president.

As the night progressed, tables began filling with empty bottles of Miller Lite. Three men clinked Coronas and others toasted glasses of whisky. Other supporters, watching a Fox News broadcast behind the bar, drank beer in Trump-Pence koozies. By the time Wisconsin and Iowa were called for Trump, the crowd’s chants morphed from “Trump, Trump, Trump” to “lock her up” and finally to “drain the swamp,” Trump’s promise to usher change to Washington, D.C.

The public, seemingly spontaneous watch party had by around 9 p.m. drawn at least 150 people, forcing Trump supporters to crowd the pathways between dinner tables, as guests continued to order food and wine in the lounge’s restaurant. Champagne was wheeled to some of the tables.

Most of the crowd, excited by the prospect of a Trump victory, were gracious. One Trump supporter, waiting for water in what had become a stuffy room, offered to get me water, too.

Yet the zealous style of Trump’s campaign rallies, which often verged on suspicion, was still palpable. Leaning against a wall and awaiting the returns, I was approached by a man, who, distrustful of my intentions, asked why I was there. “I’m here to watch,” I said. Skeptical, he told me he was watching me and left with a threat: “You’re not going to like how this ends.”

He spotted me with a Sun photographer not long after. He pointed to us and made an ejection motion. We approached him. Our photographer said that we were there, like others, to watch an address from our next president. I mentioned that I was a citizen, and like everyone else, was watching the party, taking photos and observing the returns. But they continued monitoring us.

We left shortly after.