No nipples were shown at the polls today. I had considered dressing the Wolvog in a full-body snowsuit both due to the cold and due to the promise that no nipples would therefore be shown. But this is America, damn it, and a man has to have choices--to show your nipples to other voters or not show your nipples to other voters, so he wore his shorter winter coat and chose to keep his chest geography to himself.
We also may have had a talk before we entered about appropriate behaviour.
My morning was as American as apple pie, if the apple pie happened to be baked by a vaguely-Middle-Eastern-looking-maybe-Latina-or-somewhere-
in-Eastern-Europe woman. Senior citizens worked the polls, informing me that my husband voted earlier that morning and did I know that? They said it in the same voice used by someone who had seen your husband getting out of the car of a prostitute. I smiled and said, "yes, sometimes I let him out of the house. You know, for really important things like voting."
A former student showed me to my booth and taught me how to work the touch-screen computer, reminding me that I probably wanted to check off that I needed my ballot in English. Let no one say that this boy learned nothing in my class.
I allowed the Wolvog and ChickieNob to check off each vote for me by touching the screen. I whispered in their ear, "check off the box next to Harak Oblinton" (a lady never tells!) to which they would scream out to the room, "you're voting for Harak Oblinton!" And every head would turn and we'd go through the same 30-second lecture about whispering and privacy and how maybe I didn't want all of our neighbours to know who I was voting for because some of these people were the same people who annoyed me with constant phone calls about the candidates.
The whole thing made me proud to be an American, proud that I had done my civic duty even if I hadn't pulled my shit together today to get the rear view mirror in my car fixed. We walked through the food store afterwards with that same self-satisfied expression of those who give blood or help little old ladies cross the street. We did our part to save America, to vote for the person who we think has the best chance of being a figurative transfusion or a arm to grip as you dodge fast-moving cars. And everyone at my polling place knows who I think that person is; thanks to the Wolvog and ChickieNob who exercised free speech and told the room my voting record.