Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Huh?

Back when I was a single lass, I had a beginning-of-the-alphabet last name. I was a Fortunate: accustomed to being near the front of every line. I was also accustomed to being finished with whatever I was in line for long before those Unfortunates saddled with an end-of-the-alphabet last name had even gotten started.

And then, I got married. 

Don't get me wrong. C is a wonderful (and immensely patient) husband. But my adopted last name now begins with W. I am now one of the Unfortunates, doomed to be near the end of every line, woefully watching the Fortunates with beginning-of-the-alphabet last names skipping gaily past me as I wait in a linear, er, very hot place.

Today was no exception. At 10:30 AM, the kiddos and I made ourselves presentable, then eagerly trooped off to the polling place. Usually this is a rather fast trip, with a really close parking spot. Today, there were guys directing us to parking in the grass lot across from the building. Then we trudged around to the very back of the building, where the line was snaked around nearly to the exit lane. 

But, we were still in good spirits as we took our place in line. These are exciting times, and this is an historic election, no matter who wins. 

Though the line seemed to be moving rather quickly, ten minutes morphed into twenty, then thirty. Then we stopped counting. Lines for the A-L people were zipping along, and short. Lines for we M-Z's were crawling, and long. 

An hour and a half after we stepped in line, I had voted, the whining from Handsome Boy had ceased (Lovely Girl wisely brought along her writing, and so was too immersed in her thoughts to whine) and we were outta there.

C took an early train home, but called me to say he still didn't get to the polling place parking lot until nearly 5 PM. I figured he'd be heating up his own dinner tonight.

Shortly after that call, he's standing in our kitchen, grinning.

"What are you doing here?" I said. "Go vote! The line will be horrendous!"

But that was precisely not the case. He got in line at 5 PM. In the rain. Just as he pulled out his umbrella, the election official called for people in M-Z. He raised his hand. The official directed him to the shrimpy M-Z line next to the ridiculously long A-L one.

By 5:15 PM he was back in his car. At 5:20 PM, he rolls on in the house.

Sheesh.