A fitting end to election season

What a funny place I live in.

I went to vote in my tiny precinct, and got there about 8:30. I was the tenth in line, which is by far the most people that I have ever seen there. The room is about the size of my living room, maybe.

It did not take long to see what the hold up was--why is it that my poll workers are all elderly ladies? The first one in line--the one who looks you up in the book and pulls your signature tear sheet out told every single person in front of me that they were not in her book. This is after they all told her their names at least three times, and spelled them. Since it is a small precinct, everyone knows everyone, but this did not keep lady #1 from arguing with them about whether the woman in front of me was named Anna something, or something Anna. It was crazy

Finally we got to my turn, I spelled my name FOUR TIMES, and told her my first name, since it is not the one I use. She told me I was not there. She was hung up on Barry's card. Easy enough for me to figure that Valery would be after Barry, but I still had to point it out to her.

I got moved past her and listened to the lady behind me give her name. Lady #2 asked her which in that family she was related to--the answer "none". Lady #2 could not drop it talking about how odd that was, since there are so many and they are all related. Finally the voter told her she had divorced one of them and thus was not related to them any more. I still have not decided what business it was of the election lady, but that is where we ended up--and how uncomfortable for the voter. I probably did not like that election lady as she had a snaggle tooth. Oh yeah--and she was obnoxious

This was getting funny by this time. I was at the end of the table and remarked to the last election lady that it as a little warm in there, it must be due to the crowd. Her response "To each his own". Huh? What has that got to do with anything? I must have looked at her oddly, as she clarified---to each his own about the heat. Still totally non-responsive. That is what I get though for trying to make conversation, like some sort of country bumpkin. I guess she probably thought it was cold, since she as at least 85 her own self

Now we are getting to the coup de grace. Finally I was next up in line---and guess where they sent me?

To the BATHROOM. To vote in the can. For real.

What an appropriate commentary on the season.

I won't even start on the tussle that almost resulted from the "I voted" sticker.