Don’t Make Me Vote. You Wouldn’t Like Me When I Vote.

I stood my two-plus hours and voted this morning: a straight ticket, for the Meh/Whatever Party. Whoever wins this election, the voter mandate they’re going to be able to claim is, “Anything but the other guy.” I took one look at the line, cursed our improving voter turnout, and wished that I’d downloaded an episode or two of Sons of Anarchy to my kindle. But I didn’t, so instead of fan fiction (don’t judge me), I’ll share with you what actually ricochets through one’s head over that length of time.

Why do we get Colombus Day off and not Election Day? Why did I have to haggle with my boss over the possibility of showing up late today because of voting?

To be fair, he was cool about it. Even said “civic duty,” which I’m pretty sure means I can’t be fired. Well, maybe.

What?! All the kids get the day off because we’re using their school as a polling place? They can’t even vote! Do I really have to go to work afterward?

Holy schnikey, this school has small parking spaces. Do the kids commute here in kid-sized cars?

Ignore the people outside. Ignore the people outside. Ignore the people outside.

Okay, be polite.

No, thank you, I don’t need a democratic ballot in Spanish. Wait. Did you just ask me that?

Did you ask me that in Spanish?

I’m here to voterize. To get my votification on. The exorcism my electionalilty.

I miss George Bush. Or, at least, SNL George Bush.

WHAT?? What election? Just kidding. Let’s do the whole thing on Facebook next year. Just post a poll.

Holy … line, Batman. Are you serious right now?

I should have gotten here at 6:00 when the polls opened.

That’s not right. I love America, but not that much. The only thing I’ll do that early in the morning is catch a train to New York or … well, stick with the train thing.

Okay, for real, I didn’t know there were this many people in Arlington. Doesn’t anyone have jobs?

I should have downloaded a movie to my Kindle for this shit.

Oh, no. A talkative woman in line in front of me.

Why do you keep getting out of line? Oh, because you know everyone here. Yup, talkative.

Oh my God, you’re honestly stupid. Listening to you is making me less intelligent by the moment.

You remind me of my ex-mother-in-law. You just have to be narrating the world around you, yeah?

I’m going to name you Vacancy.

Wow. This other woman just got off a 14-hour nursing shift and came here to vote before she crashes.

I’m going to name you Sleepy.

Vacancy … that wasn’t your cue to tell her your opinion about hospitals and medical staffs. I’m a lawyer … I know this phenomenon. No one appreciates it.

Especially if you don’t like hospitals. It isn’t Sleepy’s fault.

I should be using this time to plan my write-in candidates.

That would be fun – polling people as to whom they would write in for various offices.

For President for real? Maybe Michael Steele. My Republican man crush du jour.

For President just to see what comes out of his mouth? Jesse Ventura, maybe. Or Lewis Black.

Maybe include the cabinet. We’ll save that for later, if this line stays like this.

Oh, I know. I’ll text Alison and complain about how long I’m waiting to vote for Romney. You see what I did there?

Hmm. She thought it was funny. So much for girlfriend baiting.

Maybe I’ll run for President next year. I could win. I’ll just promise to get Bill Clinton as my running mate, and to resign after one week in office.

I think that gets us around the constitutional two-term issue.

He could carry the ticket. He’s getting too old to philander, so what objection? Aside from his wife’s.

I have to have a full week in office, though. Check out the White House chef and use the bowling alley in the basement.

The line snaked past the school’s library. I think “Realistic Fiction” is a perfect description of what we’re all doing there.

Someone just referred to the parking lot as “angry.” I’d laugh, but it’s kind of true.

Bored. Let’s check in on Vacancy.

Seriously? You’re complaining about your last name starting with ‘H’ and how that means there’s a cloud of people that slow you down when you eventually get to the tables, and how you wish you had a ‘Z’ name?

Try having my last name. Stop complaining. I’m always last in alphabetical order. Power to the latecomers!

Also, stop telling people that just showed up that they’re lucky because the line was a lot longer. People said that to us when we showed up. This isn’t a sorority hazing cycle. Do you want a purple heart for having waited?

I wonder if they allow cell phones in the voting area, or if it’s like casino tables where they’re afraid someone will advise you telephonically.

Does that even happen?

Also, I wonder whether there are no-no words. When you go through airport security, you can’t say “bomb” or “hijack” — it would be funny if there were things you couldn’t say while in line to vote.

I really need to get done with this. I’m thinking about terrorism.

I wonder which candidate will keep us safe from terrorism? SNL said that Mitt killed Bin Laden.

I need to stop thinking about SNL, Stewart and Colbert when I try to consider real things.

Why do all the people coming out of voting look even crankier than the people in line?

This is it, isn’t it? The end to the political advertising barrage. Thank goodness. I almost don’t care who wins, as long as they all promise to shut up.

Come to think of it, at least all the ads mean that I live in a state where my vote is more likely to matter.

The electoral college sucks. I know the arguments. It still sucks.

I have the option of using a voting machine or paper? Is that like the November equivalent of “paper or plastic”?

Plastic, please. Curious to see whether it works.

Maybe I shouldn’t have walked up to the registration table and said, “Hello, Officers!”

Their nametags said election officers. That was probably fine. They kind of smiled.

Maybe I shouldn’t have thanked them for their service, though. Sounded very pander-y. Maybe I wasn’t solemn enough when I said it.

So much for that. Another election in the books.

I got my sticker! Hell yes, bitches.

Why are they offering me muffins on our way out?

Why isn’t there anyone here conducting exit polls? I had all kinds of fun answers ready.

These people offering ballots on your way in … I should have taken one of those.

That would have saved a lot of time.

Is it just me, or if you didn’t know Facebook was counting votes, wouldn’t you think Matthew Broderick was playing Global Thermonuclear War again?

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Arlington, Fun, Politics and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Don’t Make Me Vote. You Wouldn’t Like Me When I Vote.

  1. Barbara says:

    Oh this post is so full of WIN. Major mistake to go first thing when the polls open. I made that mistake last time, in the pouring rain and still half-drunk from the night before (what, I was fresh out of college, so of course Monday still counted as the weekend).

    Also? I didn’t see a write-in option in my digital ballot. Power to the parties.

    • popdialectic says:

      I’m glad you enjoyed it! I actually didn’t go first thing, which I suspect was my problem, but from all the feedback from other friends in Arlington throughout the day, it sounds like my wait was about par for the course.

  2. The Great and Powerful Rubin says:

    I made it all the way through to “I got my sticker! Hell yes, bitches.”… Reading that reminded me of Jesse Pinkman from Breaking Bad… I subsequently lost it. You know they spend approximately 8 million dollars every four years to print those stickers? I’m disappointing that they don’t give you one of those stickers to wear when you mail in your ballot. 😦 My hard earned tax dollars go to pay for those damn stickers, and I F* want one! Mail me yours…

    On a lighter note, way to perform your civic duty. Should you find yourself unemployed, give me a ring… We’re hiring. 😛

    • popdialectic says:

      I just enjoyed a mental image of Jesse grabbing a handful of stickers on the way out, throwing an angry “bitch!” over his shoulder. Mike would have been more cool about it … as I was.

      You can’t afford me. 😉

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s