Election Day Nooner

“You never mention me in your blog anymore,” remarked Robbie over “lunch” today.

Better?

We get up to two hours off work to vote, which is good. Last year management required us to show our “I Voted” stickers to get the time off. I needed it all; that election included the gubernatorial race, and the line wrapped all the way around the parking lot of the church where my precinct voted. Today’s election just had a bunch of propositions – improper or otherwise, I couldn’t say. I don’t have any opinions, and had already recycled last week’s Chronicle, so I wasn’t very well prepared.

Driving to Georgetown takes 40 minutes, one way. That’s from downtown Austin with very little traffic.

Afterwards I stopped by the precinct where I should be, but am not, registered. I moved last February. I’ve updated my driver’s license, and filled out my new address with the post office and the bank, so I assumed I had renewed my voter’s registration in there somewhere, too. But I had not.

“I can’t find my voter’s registration card,” I told the volunteer election clerk, in the lobby of Anna’s elementary school. The lobby was empty, except for the election workers, a row of voting booths, and a group of bright-eyed second-graders catching their first glimpse of the democratic process. “Look!” the teacher whispered excitedly to her charges, “there’s someone getting ready to cast her vote!”

“We can go by your driver’s license,” the election worker said.

“Actually, I’m not sure I ever updated my registration,” I told him.

“Well, let me look,” he told me, taking my license and leafing through his book. “Nope – you’re not in here. I’m afraid you’ll have to vote at the old precinct. I’m sorry about that!”

“Nonono, that’s okay, thanks!” I told him. “Only I don’t really have time. Can I have a sticker anyway?”

Fortunately I did have just enough time to run home and freshen up a little, because you can’t go straight back to work after a nooner: you’re sweaty, your hair is mussed, you’re all flushed; and if you happen to be, physiologically speaking, a girl, well, what with gravity, and – well, you just need to freshen up a bit.

I love democracy, don’t you?