We figured it’d be interesting to watch the election returns from the Trump International Hotel in D.C. While there was no official watch party, it seemed natural that Donald Trump supporters in the area might head to the latest member of the Trump Hotel family. D.C. politicians’ treatment of the hotel has shifted significantly since he announced his candidacy—many attended the groundbreaking in 2014, and none showed for the ribbon-cutting ceremony in October. The hotel at the Old Post Office building has been the site of protests and the butt of jokes. Now who’s laughing?

The scene outside Trump International Hotel. (Photo by Alex Edelman)

7:42 p.m. I arrive at Trump International Hotel on Pennsylvania Ave. All’s quiet out front—no protesters. Earlier in the day, just four anti-Trump folks showed up. D.C. police have been there all day, hanging off to the side just in case there’s trouble.

At the only open door, next to the ballroom, it’s more tense. The doorman is only letting in people who have reservations at the hotel or BLT Prime. He consults his clip board before lifting the velvet rope. “We are at capacity at the bar,” he says.

People are pissed, angrily smoking cigarettes as they regroup and emphasize the donations they’ve made to the campaign. One guy keeps saying he works for the government. He shows the doorman a woman’s business card, presumably to pull rank and prove he belongs inside. “Yes I know her, she works for me,” the doorman says. The guy gets in, along with anyone who can have someone inside come outside and get them.

The doorman says that as soon as some folks leave, more people can go inside. I decide to wait.

7:49 p.m. I’m in.

Unfortunately our photographer, who had just arrived by the steps, didn’t have the same luck. He texts me that they objected to his camera and press badge—there’s no media permitted.

This is my first time inside the Old Post Office as the Trump International Hotel. Everything here is big—enormously tall ceilings, chandeliers jam-packed with crystals, plush sofas and throne-like chairs.

The crowd numbers in the hundreds but it’s not the mosh pit I expected. It’s also far more diverse, in terms of age, race, gender, than I would have guessed. Suits are the most common outfit, and white men outnumber everyone else, but this crowd is not uniform.

7:55 p.m. I find two young white dudes, one wearing a red Make America Great Again hat, the other a white version of the same. They’re staring at the TVs and reluctantly tell me I can sit in a chair next to their couch. When I tell them I’m reporter, they clam up.

So I chat with another guy, a bit older than them, sitting nearby. He says he’s just here to drink one glass of Jack Daniels and then head home to his wife on Capitol Hill. He’s a Republican, but not a Trump supporter, he says. I’m about to ask him who he voted for when the two young dudes tell me their friend is coming, so I need to get up.

7:57 p.m. The seat I vacated remains empty. A waiter walks by with what looks like a cake pop tree, and it’s as if Tim Burton and Pinterest fused.

7:59 p.m. I run into an acquaintance, a recent college grad from North Carolina who’s conservative-leaning. He and his friend say they’re not big Trump supporters, but they’re here to check out the scene.

8:04 p.m. The chair is still empty.

8:20 p.m. There are four huge TV screens behind the bar that people are watching in rapt attention—two are broadcasting Fox News, and the audio from the channel blares over the loudspeaker; one has CNN, which multiple people tell me shows how balanced everyone is; and ABC 7. It’s tough to tell if all of the people surrounding the bar are also waiting for drinks.

8:22 p.m. Bill, from Arlington, is another “check out the scene” guy. He tells me he wrote in “Giant Meteor” on his ballot. We stand together as the first real cheers emanate from the crowd—Fox is showing Trump up in Florida by 0.1 percent.

8:30 p.m. Trump takes Alabama. I decide that maybe I’ll get a drink here after all. Bill has friends who’ve been waiting at the bar.

8:32 p.m. Despite warnings about the long wait time, I have a whiskey ginger in my hands.

8:36 p.m. Fox tells us that Florida is too close to call. A guy at the bar is yelling “Call it! Fucking call it!” Then he starts screaming to call Virginia, and high fives a woman who says “Virginia’s been blue for too long.”

8:40 p.m. I’m talking to Trump supporters, all young white men, who tell me how Sunday’s rally in Leesburg felt like one big happy family. None of them will go on the record. They all cite being burned in the past by media.

I’m struck by how sensitive they are about the way they’re perceived. “They say we’re violent, that we’re uneducated,” one of them tells me, and gestures at the room. “Do you think that?”

8:49 p.m. Kirby Presswood, a real estate agent from Nevada, is in town to show her support for Trump. “This is the first presidential election I’ve gotten into,” she says. She says her extended family is all Democrats (as was she, until George W. Bush) and “they all think I lost my mind.”

She says she supports Trump for the sake of her 19 grandchildren. “In the beginning I couldn’t stand his loose way, but when I listened to him I believe he’s sincere,” she says. “I wish he had a filter but I do believe this man has evolved into a patriot.” She’s disgusted with Republicans who haven’t gotten on the Trump train, especially Mitt Romney.

The view from the back of the unofficial watch party at the Trump International Hotel. (Photo by Rachel Kurzius)

9:10 p.m. Rob is a New Jerseyan in a camouflage Make America Great Again hat. He tells me not to use his last name because he does consulting.

“I just think [Hillary Clinton is] just such a phony person,” Rob says. This is the first presidential election he’s voting in. “Every Hillary Clinton tweet goes through all these staffers, but Trump just fires them off. That doesn’t make him more qualified, mind you, but that braggadocios attitude is where our country’s at.”

He says he voted for Bernie Sanders in the primary, but now he lives in D.C. and voted in the city for Trump in the general.

9:25 p.m Those people who kicked me out of the table still have an empty chair.

9:31 p.m. Huge cheers as returns from Ohio, North Carolina, and Michigan show Trump ahead. “Oh my god,” my acquaintance says. “He could do this. This could be happening.” I’m getting texts from liberal friends looking for reassurance, as if I know something they don’t.

9:40 p.m. I take a break in a lobby where I run into a fellow reporter. He’s just refreshing the New York Times electoral map, devastated. “It’s over,” he says.

9:54 p.m. I return to the bar, where the mood is upbeat. A huge cart filled with chilled champagne rolls by. Where could it be going? One guy jokes that, as a woman, all I have to do is get friendly with whoever ordered it to drink some.

9:57p.m. People look befuddled as Clinton takes Virginia but quickly brush it off.

10:01 p.m. The chair is gone?

10:08 p.m. As one dude tells me that it’s not a done deal, that Trump doesn’t have it in the bag, a woman shoots him a death stare.

10:10 p.m. Incumbent Richard Burr wins the North Carolina Senate race. Cheers.

10:15 p.m. It’s getting harder to pretend that everything is cool and that I’m doing well. I no longer want to mingle with random people and instead stay close to the guy who tells me repeatedly that Trump has to run the table to win.

10:16 p.m. Karl Rove, of all people, points out how hard of a road Trump still has to victory. Am I really taking comfort from Karl Rove? It’s short lived.

10:23 p.m. “That is a red ass country right there,” says Rob the consultant as he looks at the electoral map. He’s telling me how “Make America Great Again” is a much better slogan than “Stronger Together” because it’s more positive. He tells me that he considers pulling the lever for Trump a “protest vote.”

10:26 p.m. Ohio goes Trump. “I told you! I told you!” one guy keeps saying.

10:28 p.m. The guy is still saying, “I told you so.”

10:30 p.m. The first genuine “TRUMP TRUMP TRUMP” chant breaks out as polls show him ahead in Florida and North Carolina.

10:31 p.m. Now Rob the consultant is talking to me about how Martin Shkreli is misunderstood. The so-called pharma bro is actually cool because he posts educational chemistry videos on YouTube.

10:49 p.m. People jump to their feet as Fox calls North Carolina for Trump.

10:56 p.m. Am I getting tired or is the room getting tired?

10:57 p.m. I get my answer when Florida is called for Trump, and the room erupts into its biggest cheers yet.

A view of the bar at Trump International Hotel on Election Night. (Photo by Rachel Kurzius)

11:00 p.m. The acquaintance from North Carolina admits that he voted for Trump because “he was the lesser of two evils.” He adds that he was going to be satisfied if the GOP kept the Senate, but never expected this.

11:09 p.m. Kirby Presswood, the Nevadan real estate agent, is thrilled when Utah goes Trump. “I’m happy, I’m so happy,” she says. “I just didn’t want him to get creamed but now he’s doing just what I thought he would do. My gut said he was gonna win.”

11:22 p.m. I’m charging my phone in the corner but really I’ve lost my will to speak to others.

11:32 p.m. “It’s over,” people are shouting when Fox projects a win for Trump in Wisconsin. Everyone is chanting “USA! USA!” Someone tries to rally the crowd in a “Lock her up!” chant, but it doesn’t catch on.

11:47 p.m. The crowd has thinned slightly, though the people who remain are bouncier.” I can taste your tears from the screen, Anderson Cooper,” one guy yells. “I can taste your tears!”

12:04 a.m. “It is high time that we got a leader who cannot be bought,” says Pratish, a Virginia real estate agent who grew up in India. He’s been a U.S. citizen for 10 years. He asks that I not use his last name because he doesn’t want to lose business. Trump “is not perfect—we know his temperament—but this is truly victory for the people.”

His friend interrupts our conversation. “He’s at 254!” he says delightedly.

Pratish smiles. “Trump is fighting the Democratic establishment, the GOP establishment, the global commerce establishment, banking establishment,” he says. “Who is he not fighting?” Then he adds that he voted twice for Obama.

12:11 a.m. Two George Washington University freshman aren’t old enough to drink at the bar, but are delighted to be here among like-minded people. Joe and Spencer, who asked that I not use their last names due to all the opposition they face for supporting Trump, estimate that they’re probably two of seven kids on their campus who support the Republican candidate.

Joe is holding a flag that he’s going to use as a cape for a victory run down Pennsylvania Ave. Spencer regrets leaving his flag back at the dorm, though he’s sporting a bouquet of Trump buttons.

“We have to end the global elite,” says Spencer, who cautions that he’s not a conspiracy theorist. “Nations are losing their culture. I believe America is the greatest country in the world.”

Joe says that, for him, “it was a lot more about restoring national prestige. This president has bowed to foreign leaders.” He also mentioned the Supreme Court—he says Trump will “restore balance on the side of the constitution.”

12:16 a.m. Friends outside the hotel tell me that they’re still not letting anyone new in, even though the crowd has diminished significantly.

12:24 a.m. Kyla Percival is another GW student with Joe and Spencer, and she’s sporting a shirt with elephants and a huge smile. “I’m trying not to jinx it,” she says. “I never expected this in a million years. I think the majority population is finally speaking out. The silent majority is a very real thing.”

12:44 a.m. It’s a waiting game now. No one wants to be the supporter who leaves just before the big celebration but people are getting antsy. There are scattered cries to “call it!”

1:00 a.m. FOX saying that it’s looking bleak for Clinton, and people are howling. “Its close—we get it,” one woman yells at the screen.

1:12 a.m. The main numbers guy on Fox says they won’t be able to call Pennsylvania tonight, and visible frustration erupts.

1:16 a.m. The GW students are sitting with crossed legs on the marble floor. I’m jealous. I go to the lobby to sit by myself on a plush couch. I talk to a security guard and we both express surprise at how the night is unfolding.

1:28 a.m. The lights in the chandeliers come on brightly and I return to the bar.

1:39 a.m. I ask the students if they’re planning on doing their victory lap tonight. They’re waiting until it’s official. “I’m OCD about that,” Joe says.

1:40 a.m. The brightened lights make me realize just how many people are wasted.

1:47 a.m. I’m talking to a contractor who works in a liberal nonprofit who’s deciding whether to go home now or try and wait it out. He’s 35 and this is the first presidential election he’s voted in—he likes that Trump is an outsider and a non-politician.He doesn’t tell people he’s a Trump supporter because he says his contract could be terminated at any time.

1:53 a.m. “Call it! Call it!” chants the crowd.

2:00 a.m.Fox says Clinton isn’t coming to the Javitz Center and there’s a mix of boos and cheers.

2:02 a.m. Lots of boos as John Podesta speaks. “You’re an asshole!” people are screaming at the screen. “Nobody came out for you—nobody!”

2:11 a.m. The hotel lowers the volume on the TV by a lot as people continue to leave.

2:17 a.m. Now the volume is totally off and people are trickling out, more and more.

2:20 a.m. The GW students are headed to the White House now. “We want to be able to say we were there and then we want to get some food,” says Percival.

“I will not let myself fall asleep until it’s called,” says Joe.

2:21 a.m. Pradish is peeling the Trump stickers off his vest as he gets ready to leave. “I’m glad I came,” he says, though he wishes the networks had called the election so everyone could celebrate together. “This should have reached its climax. Trump is the next president. The Clintons need to to be retired now. And don’t forget, I voted for Obama twice”

2:26 a.m. Employees are politely asking people to leave. As I walk out the door, two men are screaming at each other in the doorway over who Louis Farrkhan voted for.