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icarusI voted.
There was no line here in Seattle. People stood around in a line-like formation, but that turned out to be a coincidence. I eventually realized it wasn't moving and there were booths open. I believe the statistics are that 60% of Seattle voterswho are clearly smarter than me vote absentee ballot (something I'm doing next election. Uh... mmm... of course that's what I said last election).
They moved my polling place to a different location (thank you,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
heidi8, for the election info that turned into a "Oh, wait--" last night) which happened to be the performance hall at my old college. Much bigger than the usual church ... but then a trickle of signs led away from a hall to a room much smaller than the church. The poll workers weren't very busy -- they have time to contemplate -- but managed to look harried nonetheless.
It's the duty of a poll worker to look harried.
They were extremely helpful and earnest, grateful, even, for a problem to solve. I had a few a pen squiggles on my ballot and this was of great moment. A supervisor was called over. After a three person pow-wow we determined that the squiggles should not interfere with the ballot being read, but if they did, the reader would reject it and they'd give me a new ballot. The supervisor looked me firmly in the eye to make sure I understood that I might have to fill out two ballots. I nodded very seriously, like the point in a soap opera where we learn -- gasp! -- Alex has terminal cancer. I was very brave.
Filled out the ballot, distracted from my civic duty by fantasies of jettisoning the cell phone of the guy next to me.
We are voting. It's a sacred moment. Get off the damned phone. Also, your ring tone sucks. If I had a cellphone, you know what the ring would sound like? A phone. Ringtones are as idiotic as those "creative" answering machine messages back in the 80s, you know, where some tone-deaf jerk would sing the lyrics to an Air Supply song and then tell you how to leave a message. Tortured everyone who called yet somehow the perpetrator always thought he was clever. We've merely revised the strategy to target innocent bystanders.
Where was I? Oh yeah. Voting.
I had a midterm this morning, and a midterm tomorrow, but I voted, and have the sticker to prove it. Now I'm going to go to Babes in Toyland to pick up my free vibrator.
What?
There was no line here in Seattle. People stood around in a line-like formation, but that turned out to be a coincidence. I eventually realized it wasn't moving and there were booths open. I believe the statistics are that 60% of Seattle voters
They moved my polling place to a different location (thank you,
heidi8, for the election info that turned into a "Oh, wait--" last night) which happened to be the performance hall at my old college. Much bigger than the usual church ... but then a trickle of signs led away from a hall to a room much smaller than the church. The poll workers weren't very busy -- they have time to contemplate -- but managed to look harried nonetheless. It's the duty of a poll worker to look harried.
They were extremely helpful and earnest, grateful, even, for a problem to solve. I had a few a pen squiggles on my ballot and this was of great moment. A supervisor was called over. After a three person pow-wow we determined that the squiggles should not interfere with the ballot being read, but if they did, the reader would reject it and they'd give me a new ballot. The supervisor looked me firmly in the eye to make sure I understood that I might have to fill out two ballots. I nodded very seriously, like the point in a soap opera where we learn -- gasp! -- Alex has terminal cancer. I was very brave.
Filled out the ballot, distracted from my civic duty by fantasies of jettisoning the cell phone of the guy next to me.
We are voting. It's a sacred moment. Get off the damned phone. Also, your ring tone sucks. If I had a cellphone, you know what the ring would sound like? A phone. Ringtones are as idiotic as those "creative" answering machine messages back in the 80s, you know, where some tone-deaf jerk would sing the lyrics to an Air Supply song and then tell you how to leave a message. Tortured everyone who called yet somehow the perpetrator always thought he was clever. We've merely revised the strategy to target innocent bystanders.
Where was I? Oh yeah. Voting.
I had a midterm this morning, and a midterm tomorrow, but I voted, and have the sticker to prove it. Now I'm going to go to Babes in Toyland to pick up my free vibrator.
What?
