Jesus fuckin' sister grabbin' Christ! I hope Al appreciates this!

It’s election day. In the city of Columbia, SC (if not the whole state) that means that school’s out. Cool. We don’t have to find a babysitter for my daughter since I’m a grad student and I don’t have classes.

So little Stofskette wakes up at 6AM puking. Wonderful, but I make arrangements for Mrs. Stof to take her at the office while I vote if need be. 5 hours, a tub of blue Rugrats applesauce, and lots of Playstation games later, I decide that she’s OK to go vote with me–which I wanted to do anyhow so that I can indoctrinate her into the responsibility of democracy early.

We’re in line. Stofskette’s getting hot in her shirt. “Sorry, sweetie, there’s nothing we can do. We’ll find you a cooler shirt when we get home.” I get through the line in a record 20 minutes, I’m standing at the antiquated voting machine, and Little Stofskette pukes blue applesauce all over my shoes. God fucking damn! I can handle blood, I can handle gore (no voting pun intended), and I can probably handle you taking a big furry alcoholic shit all over my bare feet. But if you puke, I’m outta here. But the geezer running the machine (did I mention they’re antiquated? After you vote the geezer has to push a button that says you voted) says that I can’t leave the booth until he pushes the button. I’m standing with puke on my shoes, my daughter’s filling my handkerchief with partially digested blue Rugrats applesauce, and I can’t leave! And if I start puking, it’ll probably start a chain-reaction with all the others with weak stomachs waiting for a chance to make a difference.

So I stand there, quietly retching, trying not to add my breakfast remains to the technicolor floor, finish voting with one hand while patting Stofskette’s back with the other, and go. That’s my rant. Al, I want a fucking official government certificate, suitable for framing, for saving the United States if you win.

OK, I have to add this even though it takes away from the amount of vitriol in my rant: the geezers were wonderful. They ran and got wet and dry paper towels, they gave Stofskette an “I voted” sticker even though it’s illegal (according to them), and they said to get that kid home and they’d take care of cleaning up. I felt awful leaving the mess, and tried to clean up the best I could, but the geezers ran me off–before anyone goes off PC on me (yes, I’ve read the PC thread), there wasn’t an official there under 70 and I think that’s official geezerhood–and I thank them for that.

Still, as I sit here watching for the rain so that I can run out and put the windows up on my car (they’re down to air out the vomit smell), I can’t help but believe that I did more than my part for democracy. And for that, I deserve a pit rant.

I give myself a 6.6

Quite frankly, I think everyone standinmg in line to vote simultaneously vomiting would be quite appropriate this year . . .

Yeah, I have to wonder if throwing up in the booth violates the law about “no electioneering within 200 yards.”

And bravo, stofsky. It’s easy to get cynical, but the idea that we all have a say in the matter has a definite charge to it.

Ya got a point there, don’tcha?