Christopher Street

But, how do you know I'm me?

So, I cast my vote--pretty literally--for Democracy.

Because it's me, though, it was not exactly that simple. First, there was the pilgramage to the Elementary school that serves as my polling place. I looked up the address on MapQuest, I looked at a map, and then proceeded to drive in circles for an hour trying to figure out where I went wrong. I keep a map in my car--but it apparently doesn't cover the part of the county that I was driving in circles in. Stupid map.

I tried to call Heaton, cause I knew that he would take pity on me and reconfirm my obviously flawed directions. He, however, has class tonight and had already left the office. Stupid friends.

Finally, since I knew that I was at least in the right neighborhood, I decided to Jedi it--you know, give myself over to The Force. Surprisingly, this worked and I found the school in about 5 minutes. After driving around for an hour. Never dismiss The Power of The Force.

So, I get there and find a place to park...and promptly try to go in all the wrong doors. I know that they are wrong, because they are locked. Thank God, there were some lovely women there who were stumping for our Republican gubnatorial candidate and they took pity on me and directed me to the one set of doors that were open. Surprisingly, in addition to not being locked, these doors had giant signs on them that said "enter here". So far, my election experience is less than good. And then it went from good to profoundly disturbing.

As I entered the building, I fished out my Driver's License, so that I wouldn't be wasting the volunteers' valuable time, watching me fumble with my wallet. I got in the line that indicated that it was the line I should be in, and gave the woman my last name. After failing to convince me that my name was actually William, Volunteer #2 handed me a card to sign. Volunteer #1 asked me to verify my address and DOB. I was then directed to Volunteer #3--"the lady in the jeans"--for my access card. I got my card, was directed to a booth, and did my thing. And no, despite the supreme cool-ness of the direction-giving republican women in the parking lot, I didn't vote for their guy. :)

I ignored the doors marked exit and left via the same doors I had entered through--I mean, why mess with a good thing? At least I could be fairly certain that they weren't locked. :)

As I walked to my car, it occurred to me that I was still holding my Driver's License. Which no one has asked me for. I just voted in a relatively important election, and no one even verified that I was me. I mean, I know that I am me, but they don't. I could have been my friend Lisa, or my friend Anne. I could have been anyone. Well, anyone close to my age that would know that I wasn't going to vote today and could provide my street address and DOB. And, that's a longer list than you might think.

It's been suggested to me that the folks in the polling places are volunteers and that expecting them to have any sort of reasonable quality control program is ludicrous...but I don't know that I buy that. We've got, like, dozens of official monitors today in various districts in Florida--many on loan from Eastern Europe for Christ's sake--and no one can ask me for ID? Now, granted, the voters in Florida have long proven themselves in need of hand-holding, but still...no one can ask me for ID?

I hope that I sound flummoxed, cause that's what I am.

Posted by Lori at November 5, 2002 6:45 PM