Yo voté
I woke up at 5:30 this morning to begin my voting oddesy. It was my first time voting in the state I currently reside. To be certain I was ready, I tried to anticipate everything. I programmed the address of the polling station into my GPS unit. I had recent bills and my passport to prove residence and citizenship in case one of those evil poll challengers attempted to disenfranchise me. I studied the sample ballot to ensure I knew everthing I would be voting for. I even arranged to arrive at the polling place (a local elementary school) a half hour before it opened so that parking and the wait would be easier.
As is typical for one of my first time jaunts, not everything worked out as planned. It turns out the address printed on the sample ballot, which is also on the voter ID card and the school’s website, doesn’t quite lead me to the school. Instead, Google Maps, Yahoo! Maps and my GPS led me to the middle of a residential neighborhood, with nary an elementary school in sight!
I had to rush home (the GPS did manage to do that for me.) Fortunately, after a million or so clicks, lots of pissed of pacing and a good deal more profanity than I normally use, I found a county site that had directions to the school. So, about 45 minutes or so after my intentioned arrival time, I managed to pull into the school’s parking lot. After only one spin around the tiny parking lot, I even managed to get a space. (Hey, things were looking up.) It’s now about 20 minutes after the polls opened. Yes, there is a line, but not quite as bad as expected. It’s just wrapped up and down a narrow corridor, lined with folding chairs that make the experience much more intimate that I prefer to be with strangers that aren’t in a bar and paying me oodles of compliments. The further we get down the hallway, the hotter it gets.
At last, I’m within visual range of the check-in station. There are two check-in machines and about eight voting machines what will probably be several thousand voters during the day. Not the best of planning, but other areas are even worse. (I read one polling station in another state had one machine for 400 people.) Of course, as my prize is within my reach, if not in grasp, the nice lady in front of me has an issue. It takes a good 10 minutes or so, but they figure out that her polling station was moved to the nearby high school. I thought to myself, if they are able to determine this, why can’t she just vote here? (One of the amendments we voted on addresses this.)
Finally, I’m up! I hand over my idea and they find me! Whoo Hoo! No challenger! No registration issues! They hand me the the smart card and I walk over to the stage two where another poll worker chooses a machine for me (not my ideal situation) and instructs me inserting the card into the slot. I thank him (I’m an expert at inserting things, so this was somewhat unnecessary, but the explanation would be longer than letting him tell me what to do.) and he leaves me alone. The process goes quite smooth, despite the fact that I am using a touch screen that has no paper record. While my choices all show up on the final screen with no funny business, I’ll never know exactly how they showed up in the final results. (This is how you create the illusion of smooth election.) About an hour after I stepped into the line, I’m done. Yet another poll worker hands me my “I voted” sticker and I leave.
Democracy lives! (I hope!)







