What is this, Florida?

But it was an iffy deal...

The early bird gets the wait at my precinct polling place. Jumped out of bed feeling just so incredibly perky compared to the previous days with my head cold that I decided to bop over to vote when the polls opened at seven a.m.

I vote at an elementary school gymnasium, but our schools are off for spring break this week. I took the last parking spot that wasn't handicapped in the small lot by the gym expecting the line to be long already. Funny, though. There were only three people ahead of me. The poll workers had parked in all the spots near the door. Yes, those poll workers who were going to be sitting there for twelve hours straight without moving their cars or much of their anatomy. Huh?! Apparently a voter is not considered a customer, and service is not part of the job. Hallo!? Collin County Election Commissioner! Can you hear me now?

The poll workers were wandering around taping notices on the wall of the gym and fussing through a stack of papers. And fussing. And fussing. And putting on nametags. And announcing loudly that the school custodian didn't arrive to let them into the gym on time to get set up. After they fussed with papers some more they started fretting about the computerized voting machines that were not "powering up" even though they had been plugged in for over twenty-four hours. Like a fantasy from "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty," they were counting off the percent of the charging, and phoning the admiral of the fleet. "Sixty-two, sixty-eight, seventy-one..." They don't consider the possibility of swearing each other in until the machines creep into the functioning charge level. They don't imagine that it might be good to explain to the new gal on the crew that the voters (waiting against the wall on the other side of the gym like the opposite sex at the first middle school social) sign their names right side up on the list. It will just be upside down to her. If there are more than two dozen Dems in the precinct to process between seven a.m. and seven p.m. this gal will be in big trouble.

Republicans are forming a long and grumpy line. They are going to call Somebody! This is unacceptable! Their time is money!

We three Democrats are chatting and laughing, even though we didn't have breakfast yet. We are used to disorganization, of course. We are the party of Will Rogers:

I am not a member of any organized political party. I am a Democrat.

Yes, I finally got to vote, and to rush home for some breakfast before work. Yes, I got a sticker to wear. I even got an invitation to the precinct convention tonight, but, hey, I've already met my Fun Quota for today. I am thinking about applying for the job of county polling station manager, though...