Voter Turnout

April 10, 2009 at 1:50 AM | Posted in Journal | Leave a comment
  The Road to Singapore is paved with the best of intentions.  I had fully intended, Monday night, to read my election book and watch my election dvd before I got my election beauty sleep and woke up Tuesday morning to work the election.
  But fate and Bing Crosby had other plans.  Last Friday, Detroit and I got invited to the STL Cardinals Home Opener.  For Free.  Hell, yeah.  So Monday I leave work early and pick her up, and she gets to leave early, and we go to the game.
  Twas a bit chilly, but our seats were on a club level so we could go inside and watch behind glass.  Of course, all the other assholes there had that idea too.  We sat inside, then outside, then back in again.  Finally, we left early, because Detroit’s leg was hurting her and I don’t have the attention span necessary for nine innings.
  My beloved sweetheart toyed with the idea of going to the hospital, as she is still covered by her husband’s insurance.  However, since we are "out-of-state" by their definition, she would have to go to the ER.  So we went, straight from the game.  I dropped her ass off at the door and then I went home and slept off the beer from the baseball game until she called me.
  Ha!  You believe that?  Actually, I dropped her off at the door, went and parked, then came in and sat with her because I am caring and attentive.  Finally, after she had to wake me up because I was snoring, she sent me home and said she would call me.  Finally!  I mean, what the hell does it take, huh?
  I slept for two hours, until the indigestion from the nachos I had rose in my gullet like sand in an hourglass…turned upside down–er…you know what the hell I mean.  I had heartburn, and it woke me up.  Shortly after that, my gimped out sweetheart called, and asked me to pick her up.  "You have legs," I said, in an understanding tone.
  I pick her up, and get the whole story.  Luckily, they don’t have to amputate, or even operate.  Bursitis it is, and it normally affects the shoulder, but other joints are not immune.  We get home, it’s getting late, and go to bed.
 
  I wake up late for the election.  I know I’m late because I get a phone call, which is always weird at 5:25 in the morning.  I was supposed to be there at 5, but honestly I couldn’t remember if it was five or six so I compromised and set my alarm for six.
  Oops.  I show up at 5:39 (I was already up–actually I set my alarm for five. I should have set it for 430, but that’s just insane.) because I was already up and mostly dressed.  I get there and everyone else is there and everything is set up.  My work here is done.
  And basically it was, too.  For the presidential election, we had about an 80% turnout in this precinct–I worked the same poll as I did before, and the same one I would vote in, too.  It doesn’t always work out that way.  Over 1100 voters out of less than 1400–at least 75%.
  This time, out of those same 1400 registered, we had 129 voters.  Including me.  I think they need to advertise this election better.  An off-year election in April?  Nobody knows nothing.  On the other hand–
  If I was going to attempt to take over the world, I would start at the local level.  After election judge, I’d then be city coucilman, and from there it’s just a few short steps to Senator and then King of the World.  But start with a local election with low expected turnout, and you can really stack the deck in your favor.
  I was a supervisor, so I had no duties other than handling "issues."  In other words, I slept in between crises, of which there were two, and only one did I get right.  Hell, now that I think of it, I don’t think I got that one right, either.  Crap.
  At the end of the night we packed up the stuff according to the lists, and the other supervisor rode with me as we dropped off the bags at a parking lot that was the designated drop, complete with police escort.  These people take this stuff pretty darn serious–more so than I do.
  But at least I found out why I got pulled over the other night.  The other supervisor–Parker–rode with me as required, and his wife followed us to pick him up.  She called and told him to tell me I have a brake light out.  That’s one mystery solved.
  The next crisis, of course–while I was at the poll, our gas got shut off.  It didn’t look like rain, but it’s always raining.
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