Bent Words

Bent Words

November 04, 2008

My alarm was set for early. Too early. Anything before 6am is too early. Unless it�s a vacation in which case it�s never too early to get started.

So I woke up early, showered early, dressed early and still only managed to make it out the front door five minutes before the usual. Slightly early � not a problem � but I suck at plain old early.

I raced to the second set of lights on my street only to find that the rest of the way to City Hall was half-paved. Orange barrels, large chunks of concrete, misdirected cars and the occasional yawning man holding a make-shift stop sign were my obstacles. I maneuvered the course, dodged a few perils and forced my way into the only open parking spot in the City Hall lot.

�Which district are you?� said an older lady sitting in a chair as I walked through the doors.

�Huh?�

Three years of voting and they never asked me this before.

�Do you know your district?�

*my best blank stare*

�Okay, honey, what�s your name?�

She said it like, �Okay, honey (you stupid, pathetic looking thing), what�s your name (we�ll ask you a simpler question)?�

I gave her my name; she pretended to look through a big book full of wisdom and than said with an official tone,

�Okay, honey, get into that line there � behind that gentleman.�

There were three lines in front of me.

Each of these lines had �gentlemen� bringing up the rear. I rolled my eyes and picked the line closer to the woman recently arrived with cookies and brownies. I had no idea if I was in the right line and I had no idea what I was doing for, in the past, there was only one line and, in the past, we went through a different door and, in the past, there were never cookies and brownies.

The woman with the brownies was only just uncovering her bounty of chocolaty goodness when I shuffled by in a suddenly fast moving line of dutiful citizens. The �gentleman� before me was stating his name to receive a ballot and I was cursing my punctuality. Had I been late, I would have scored a brownie. But no. I had to be early.

Too early.

Sans brownie, I proudly stated my name, received my ballot and made my way to a small blue box. I picked up my golfing pencil and slowly made my selection. Nader. Go Ralph!

Just kidding.

I voted. I even got a sticker to prove it.

I would have preferred a brownie, though.

Written at 10:50 p.m.