Yesterday I worked again as a poll worker. This time I signed up to be a clerk - last election, I was an
NVC director, which required me to direct voters, within one voting place, to the correct table. That was pretty boring, though I did get a pretty cool map and stuff. This time I worked with a woman named
Nidra, who was awesome. I was in the same neighborhood as before, which, well, let's just say is not
my neighborhood. Everybody was super nice, and
Nidra, who kind of bribed us with donuts, pizza, and ice cream, knew her stuff. She was also funny.
The day was mostly smooth, and my fears - that we would be overrun with voters - came true, but the part I didn't consider was how easy it could be with a well-run team. There were again, three precincts in our location, but our table easily had the most voters all day. At 6:45 we were told that there was a line around the block, which scared me, but once we got started, people mostly were patient. There was some grumbling but people react well to a smile. I had a good time.
There was, however, one interesting moment. I think I mentioned how, during my training, they mentioned electioneering? They emphasized to us the importance of not allowing voters wearing buttons or pins into the polling place, or to ask them to remove their campaign items. During kind of a slow period, a Hispanic guy and his girlfriend walked in and were talking to one of the clerks at my table. I noticed his t-shirt right away: it had a huge, bigger than
life-size photo of
Barak Obama's head on it. The guy himself was slight - he was shorter than me, younger than me, but he had a hard look. I walked over to
Nidra and said, "
Nidra, there's a guy over there wearing a big
ol' Obama t-shirt!" I hoped
Nidra would say, OK, I'll be right over, but instead she said, "You can ask him to take it off." O-
kay... so I went over, and explained to him that campaign items weren't allowed in the voting area. He agreed to go outside and turn it inside out (he had another t-shirt on underneath), and then I noticed that his girlfriend had one on too. Hers was different, and I didn't realize at first what it was - his was more obvious. So I stood there for awhile next to Tracy, one of my co-workers, who was answering his questions, and he still didn't leave. Then he goes, "How come they didn't tell me outside?" (there were poll workers stationed outside the room to help the flow and answer questions). I said, "Maybe they didn't notice it." He looked at me like I was crazy, but eventually they left and came back in with both their t-shirts on inside out.
They voted, and when they left, he passed right by me, gave me a big
ol' smile and waved good-bye. Everyone was all, "Ah, that's your new best friend, Irene." I said, "He probably thinks I'm a Republican!" Not five minutes later, he returned (with shirt turned right side out) and gave Tracy a pen. He said, "Oops, I stole your pen!"
I'll give him an A for effort and execution. He played us very well.
After the day was over, and I came home to watch CNN with Patrick, I can only say that seeing all the people come vote (the father who voted early in the day, and then returned a few hours later with his entire family, including his young sons who were obviously voting for the first time; the little old ladies; the guy in a wheel chair with an oxygen tank; the gay and lesbian couples; the hip 20-somethings - we had over 500 voters in our precinct) was pretty inspiring. I've worked elections where not even 100 people show up. It means something. It makes me proud.
...
In my super positive mood, you know, when I was feeling all joyful and hopeful for my country, I neglected to mention the following things. Now that I've started menstruating, however, it seems appropriate to tell you:
1. At least three people who voted in the middle of the day reeked of alcohol. We're talking, before 5. Before
3. 2. One lady got down the line to the kid who was handing out the ballots, and she goes, "I'm just voting on one thing! I mean, I don't know about the propositions!" The kid, who was raised well and was polite, said, "Me neither!" Then the lady said, "I mean, doesn't Yes mean No and No mean Yes?" The kid looked at me all terrified (he obviously hasn't read
1984 recently) and mumbled something about not really thinking so... I told him later he should have asked her if 2+2=5. He laughed but I'm not sure he got the joke. I suppose I
could've hummed the
Radiohead song.
3. Many people came in prepared to be treated poorly. The news made it sound like they would have to wait hours to vote. Except for the very early morning (7 a.m.) there was only one other time during the day where we had a line (around 4 p.m.) of more than 10 people. We worked fast, and pushed them through. But lots of people were grouchy or pissed off, without anything we did. They were just expecting to be hassled.
4. I know it's the law that you don't have to show ID at a polling place, but everyone who didn't have their sample ballot (name and address and table on the back) had theirs out ready to go. I felt uncomfortable with it, but it really did speed up the process. And many people who said they registered a month ago weren't in the roster. Someone told me those rosters are printed up 4 months ago, which surprised and perplexed me. That timing seems silly.
5. Speaking of silly: those stupid ballot readers. What's the point? They're supposed to read the ballot and let the voters know if they over or under-voted, or made an error, but the voters are suspicious of them. Even the Inspector at my table was suspicious of them - she thought maybe they were counting the actual votes and reporting back somewhere throughout the day (via undercover Wifi, obviously). Sure, knowing if the voter fucked up before they walked away seems like a good idea, but the kid who was feeding the ballots into the machine told me that everytime an error message popped up, the voter elected to override the error and vote that ballot anyway. What's the point? Technology is cool but this seems wasteful. Stupid, even. What happened to our touchscreen technology? How much money does the County spend each year on new stuff? I don't miss the hanging chad controversy, surely (and every asshole who made a joke about it yesterday thought they were the funniest thing in the room), but come on. There has to be a better way. Voting by mail gets my, ahem, vote. I did it two weeks ago, and I had time to make my choices patiently and thoughtfully, in the comfort of my own home (I did it at work, whatever). Slap a stamp on it and I'm done. Only flaw: no "I Voted" sticker. I got one yesterday. So that's easily solved, right?
