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But I did not get a sticker the way I should have. I was bummed--that's my favorite part!
My second-favorite part is putting the ballot in the machine, and how nice it is that once you get it lined up right, the thing just sucks it in. Zippy--super zippy--as Jenn would say. It gives me a great sense of accomplishment and a confidence in my country that probably isn't warranted, considering how they handled the last election...and practically everything since...
Jenn has an ad torn out of Rolling Stone that says "Piss off a politician. Vote."
The old lady sitting at the "A-M" side of the table looked right past me and asked some other guy what his name was before she noticed that I persisted in standing where I was, right in front of her "A-M" sign. "Are you--you're not here to vote, are you?"
I tried to keep the default sarcasm out of my voice as I said, "Yes, I am." Sheesh. Why else would I be standing there?
"Where's your card?" she asked. Before I had a chance to process that, she clarified. "Are you already registered?" She sounded incredulous.
"Yes, I am." Once again, I was happy and proud of myself for pre-registering. Not only was I responsible and thinking ahead, I was a novelty, a college kid who not only cared enough to vote, but cared enough to pre-register. Yay!
My second-favorite part is putting the ballot in the machine, and how nice it is that once you get it lined up right, the thing just sucks it in. Zippy--super zippy--as Jenn would say. It gives me a great sense of accomplishment and a confidence in my country that probably isn't warranted, considering how they handled the last election...and practically everything since...
Jenn has an ad torn out of Rolling Stone that says "Piss off a politician. Vote."
The old lady sitting at the "A-M" side of the table looked right past me and asked some other guy what his name was before she noticed that I persisted in standing where I was, right in front of her "A-M" sign. "Are you--you're not here to vote, are you?"
I tried to keep the default sarcasm out of my voice as I said, "Yes, I am." Sheesh. Why else would I be standing there?
"Where's your card?" she asked. Before I had a chance to process that, she clarified. "Are you already registered?" She sounded incredulous.
"Yes, I am." Once again, I was happy and proud of myself for pre-registering. Not only was I responsible and thinking ahead, I was a novelty, a college kid who not only cared enough to vote, but cared enough to pre-register. Yay!