So I get to the polls this morning, perfectly pleased at myself for arriving at such a reasonably non-busy hour, (Where were you, voters?) when after I was passed along from pre-registration to day-of (God Bless Same-day Registration) I discovered that I was in error.
At the WRONG PRECINCT.
I thought perhaps the sweet old man was wrong, until he showed me the map that got me to a pair of sweet old women who busily dolled out forms to my fellow procrastinators.
I should mention that the line at Precinct 211 was a biteen more lengthy. Also, that my heart swelled when I saw so many citizens realizing their civic duty (even if they didn't recognize the names of the 15 district court judges running unopposed). Which brings me to my final piece of election day import: I wrote in my dad's name for a position as the santiation and water commissioner. There was a shit joke somewhere in my brain, but I let it go.
Get it?
Let it go?
HA.
So, hooray, Americans. Let us celebrate this feast of elections. Who will carve the incumbent?
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