Votered and Spayed

Get Out the Vomitola

7 a.m., i put on my helmet and prepared for the worst. My last few elections in New York City, I was still pulling the lever, old timey-style. In a booth with a curtain, like my mother used to take me when I was 7, and I could run out crowing “I votered!” and terrorize poll workers for lollies. Unfortunately, I think I “votered” for Ronald Reagan, but do not hold this against me. Ronald Reagan, Ronald McDonald, just gimme my damn lolly!

This would be my first election with filling in ovals and hanging Chad. Or hanging someone, whoever they could find. Predictably, it was chaotic. The incorporation of pen and paper into the transaction meant extra folding tables, more lists with your name on them, and more workers. But somehow fewer brain cells. A middle aged couple lined up in front of me to receive their ballots and were repeatedly asked, “are you voting together or separate? Together or separate?” by the lady handing out the ballots. For here or to go? Can I help whose next?

At any rate, it is done, DEMOCRACY SERVED UP HOT N FRESH.

We’ll be checking in throughout the day to see how democracy is faring. Maybe in 2010, maybe in our time machines. Whatever seems less depressing.

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