I keep making posts, and my computer keeps freezing up! Sorry for the disappearance.
Boy, my voting experience today really burned me up. I'm so trying to laugh at it. I really am. Two people 'confused' the election people by asking for a new ballot to change their votes ... makes me wonder if it had anything to with an experience similar to mine ...
For some odd reason, everyone telling me to vote is getting on my nerves. Look, I'm going to vote already. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I'm an irresponsible citizen? And heck, even if I decided not to vote, that's my right, too. I don't like anyone on the ballot. Not a single person. And I don't know anyone I'd write in, either. So I just voted for Senator and a couple issues that were important to me.
If it weren't for those issues that I actually cared about, I wouldn't have voted. I'll vote if I want to, and not vote if I don't want to. I don't know why this bothers me, because I've missed maybe one election in my adult life, if that? I guess I don't like being told what to do, LOL.
Anyway, we vote in this archaic place that doesn't even use chad technology; you have to fill in the little circles. So I go up, hand over my driver's license, sign in six places, and they finally give me the ballot.
While I'm writing in/on the wobbly booth, I hear my name. I turn, and DH is patiently waiting while one election worker is confused (and bless her soul, I know she's volunteering, but she's at every election. Goodness, but I hate to say it. I hate to say it because she's volunteering. Okay, I'm going to say it. She shouldn't be allowed!!!).
"What number does spyscribbler have?" she yells to the whole room.
Standing Election Worker says, "100. She has the right number next to her name; don't change it."
I turn back to my ballot to wade through the language of a tax levy.
"Scribbler?" she asks Standing Election Worker, "Is she 103?"
My DH is standing good-naturedly, waiting to get his ballot. The lines are piling up, and no one is getting a ballot while Confused is trying to make a mess of an organized system. How did DH get to be so patient?
Standing Election Worker says again, "Don't change spyscribbler, she's 100."
I shake my head at the fact that while, in theory, one is supposed to be relatively anonymous and allowed privacy while voting, in reality, thirty people in line know that I'm voting.
I go back to reading. It takes me awhile, because I'm one of those must-read-every-damn-word kind of person. About ten minutes later, I suddenly realize that DH is still waiting. I hear my name again!
I turn. "I'm 100. The same number you wrote down the first time," I say, getting a little ruffled. The people in line start grumbling and eyeing me, as if I'm the one who's causing a hold-up.
Confused shakes her head. "You're spyscribbler?" she calls to me. I nod. "What number is on your ballot?"
Dear God. I take a deep breath and manage not to growl or yell. "One hundred."
I shake my head and go back to coloring in the circles. I heard my name, I kid you not, several more times, as Confused asked Standing Election Worker my number. Standing Election Worker kept repeating, ad nauseum, that my ballot number was correct. Confused kept changing it, ad nauseum. It was perplexing, really.
I finished, and DH finally got his ballot. I took my ballot to the guy standing and waiting for it. I hand it to him, since last time, I kid you not, we had to slip them in a box.
He looks at me kind of snotty. "This your first election?"
I stared at him, thinking, okay, I missed one election because I was on vacation. But last time this stupid place had us throw these stupid ballots in a box. For the entire fifteen years before that, I've voted in places with competent workers, and much less archaic voting processes than this place. Sad when chad technology is a step up.
None of that passed by my must-be-polite filter, so I just managed a strangled, "No."
He instructed me to slide it in this scanning thing. "You made a mistake!" he calls to the entire room. "You didn't vote for a judge!"
I bite my tongue. I think, boy, my voting results sure are private. I cast a look over to the line, still glaring at me because they believe it's my fault that the line is held up, since the lady kept calling my name out in confusion.
"No mistake," I say. "One is allowed to abstain from choosing between two candidates that one doesn't like." I have to put a smile on my face at this point, because my voice is starting to sound a little irked.
The machine beeps. He frowns at me. "You didn't vote for attorney general," he says. I frown back.
"There was only one choice for attorney general," he says as if I'm an idiot.
I bite my tongue and press "accept" on the machine.
It beeps again. "You didn't vote for county coroner!" he booms. Again, the room looks at me.
I smile at him. "Well, they're both new. I don't think either of them being a democrat or republican much matters, in this case. They're both unproven." I turn to the room and explain, "And they both want to cut up dead people. I don't know one freaking thing about that."
He shuts up. The room stops looking at me. I leave.
Yay for voting! I can't wait to do it next time.