Voter intimidation was a hot topic heading up to this year's election. Accusations were flying. Emergency backup lawyers were called up from the minor leagues. The fear was that people would arrive ready to vote but wind up fleeing in a frenzied panic. For some reason, "the man" wanted to increase the lunatic turnout this year, so voters were pampered like divas in an attempt to quell the irrational tendencies of the easily alarmed and the insane.
I was complimented on my outfit upon arrival, thanked for voting by at least a dozen people, and asked over and over again if I needed help. I was feeling great about myself! However, my feelings on the matter soured when I found myself surrounded by wimps, cowards, and worst of all, economic girly-men. It made me wax nostalgic about the days when you had to be skilled with nunchucks or a bo-staff just to make it out of the polls alive.
I realized that voting would be hard, hard work when I saw an interview on TV where a young man about my age was quoted as saying, "[Voting was difficult] because there was a lot to read [on the ballot]." Reading has never been my strong suit, so I knew it would be a challenge. Still, I was not daunted... yet.
I had to get there, somehow. The drive to the polls was nerve-wracking, thanks to a light drizzle and a complex parking scheme. I realized that many people would be too fearful to leave their homes. Still, I pressed on. I arrived with my wife right before the "4 o'clock rush," which we heard were about as organized as the L.A. riots.
The people working at the polls were super excited to see us. This is probably because only about 17 percent of people in our age group voted this year, so Sarah ("the wife") and I were an exotic and endangered species. The only reasonable conclusion for our rarity is that most of our demographic looked at P Diddy's "VOTE OR DIE" campaign and chose death.
I had to register to vote. Sarah stood waiting, and a little old lady asked her to sit down?I kid you not?so that she would "not intimidate other voters." Anyone who knows my wife understands that she is about as intimidating as a troop of Girl Scouts selling cookies. I was irritated. It wasn't like I brought She-Hulk to the polls, for crying out loud. Once they sensed my irritation, a team of therapists on call rushed in to make sure I was okay. I was taken to a private room with soft colors and a comfortable couch. I told them about my problems, cried a little, laughed a lot, got a massage, and then went back out to vote. It was just what I needed.
We got in line to vote, which took about a minute. The ballot was explained to me, and my worst fear was realized: reading was really involved. I took my time, patiently sounded out every word, and filled out my ballot. I was thanked for voting by the kid operating the voting machine, and we were on our way. The harrowing experience was finally over.
However, I was concerned that all the ridiculously nice treatment would attract more spineless cowards to the polls. I was unsure about the repercussions of this result, but learned later that exit polling showed that spineless cowards and girly-men voted pretty much 50-50 for Kerry and Bush. On the positive side, the voter turnout was the highest since 1960, which is a great sign for democracy. I guess we all have our inner diva that likes to be pampered. Personally, I wish every day was Election Day!