i figured i’d be in line for twenty minutes, so i took a book with me when i went to go vote.
fortunately, it was a long book. ended up standing outside in line for about twenty minutes, then they opened up some more room inside and we stood in line inside for another 40 or so. there were two precincts at my polling place, 35 and 54. i’m in 54 (“car 54, where are you?!”). 35, naturally, had no waiting. you could pretty much waltz in, verify your signature, get your ballot, and be out in five minutes. 54, though… 54 is the hoppin’ precinct, where all the hep cats and cool kitties go to say their piece and snap their fingers with love for the e-lec-to-ral pro-cess. yeah, man! or something. whatever it was, it involved a lot of standing. i felt sorry for the people who didn’t bring anything to read. then i finally get my ballot, and wait in line for a booth, get a booth, get through like three pages of the butterfly thingy, and … oops! spoiled my damn ballot, by accidentally voting to retain a judge i wanted to vote out. go fetch new ballot, wait while the perky new election judge tries to remember what you call a spoiled ballot (this, after i said to the other judge, “i spoiled my ballot” … and she nodded, handed the bad ballot to Perky Judge, who was in charge of the ballots, and Perky Judge looked at it, then back up at me in confusion. i said “i made a mistake; i’d like a new ballot,” and she dithered for like two minutes before the veteran judge finally took pity on her and said that the word she was looking for — the one printed in bright red letters on the little ballot privacy booklets she was wrapping each ballot in — was “spoiled.” yeeesh.), wait for another booth. then vote, double-check against my notes, stuff ballot into machine… machine rejects ballot because i undervoted. dude, it was like middle school all over again. i was like, “but i totally checked all my work! twice!” sitting there on the spot like the teacher was going to come scold me in front of the whole class, or something. so i elected to go with a third ballot, got a booth, voted, checked my work twice this time, one against my notes and once against the little hole-poking template ballot holder, turned it in … and sighed in relief as the machine thanked me for voting and i was finally free to go. yeah, yeah, me and my broken ballots… i’m a part of the problem!