The moment Trump’s election night watch party became a wake for the GOP

Supporters attend a watch party for US Senator Jon Husted (R-OH), Republican candidate for re-election, during the US midterm elections in Columbus, Ohio US, November 3, 2026. REUTERS/Megan Jelinger

Vanity Fair's Washington correspondent Aidan McLaughlin spent Election Night at the bar that has become a friendly spot for the influx of Republicans into the city after the 2024 elections. It wasn't a pretty sight.

There were drink specials, like “The Elephant in the Room” and “The Senate Majority Martini.” But it quickly became clear this was less a party than a wake.

The evening began with triumph, where young men in the Trump uniform, blue suit and red tie, strutted around the bar. Glasses were clinking and music was playing.

McLaughlin describes it as a kind of intoxicating certainty that the polls were all wrong. They were undercounting MAGA voters again, just as they had in 2016. It wasn't going to be as bad as they thought. Then the returns began to arrive. One Senate seat slipped away, then another. House districts that had seemed safely red turned blue with the quiet cruelty of a tide creeping over a sandcastle.

The happy voices quieted and the laughter thinned. The same young operatives were now standing solemnly around the political corpse of their majority, murmuring their shock to one another while the GOP's electoral obituary scrolled relentlessly across the chyrons.

McLaughlin said that one operative was outside taking a smoke break with his pint of beer when he saw, “Darline Graham just plummeted on Polymarket." Prediction markets have become the new concept of instantaneous polling. The problem is that it isn't. It's what people are willing to spend money to bet on and it shifts quickly.

“I hate my f—— life right now. Everything just sucks. Jesus Christ we’re gonna lose it all," the man said with an exhale of smoke.

Another party goer was a White House staffer sporting his red hat with “45/47” on the side and “WINNING” on the front. He confessed that he was more optimistic earlier.

“If we lose Texas, it’s a catastrophe," he said. It wasn't long after that the Decision Desk called the Texas U.S. Senate race for James Talarico. Ironically, the music playing was Ella Langley’s “Choosin’ Texas." The group noted the cruel irony.

“I’m not trying to crash out,” McLaughlin quoted one of the men saying. He is a Republican organizer for the GOP. “But we nominated HITLER with DOWN SYNDROME. And guess what!? He lost! He lost! And now we lose a Supreme Court Justice. It is a f—— disaster."

When the Tea Party brought its wave into the House and Senate in 2010, it shifted six U.S. Senate seats from Democrats to Republicans. As of Wednesday afternoon, Democrats were at seven, and it was possible they could even win Mississippi and Alaska, too.

A source close to Trump texted McLaughlin saying that their side "got SMOKED. BIGLY," a reference to Trump's frequently used word during the 2016 campaign. "He’s not the kingmaker he was, or still thinks he is. This is a referendum on him," the source said. The calls were now coming from inside the house.

McLaughlin explained that since his return to the presidency, Americans have consistently seen nearly every policy proposal curdle into catastrophe, whether it's Trump's tariffs that taxed the very consumers he promised to protect, a trade war with Canada that turned neighbors into adversaries or a war in Iran that swallowed treasure, weapons, credibility and lives.

While Trump tried to drape each of his moves in the language of strength and the American flag, that flag became the noose around the necks of the GOP.

Meanwhile, uptown, Democrats were chanting "USA! USA! USA!"

McLaughlin watched as "Two burly men embraced." One of them shouted: “Susan Collins is f—— gone!”

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