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Goblins are a barrier to voting
Nov. 8th, 2005 07:55 pmCreepiest performance of civic duties ever.
Google Maps lied to us, telling us that 37 Fenlon St. was on the dimly-lit, sidewalk-lacking, leaf-bestrewn West Fenlon St., where the moon shone through tall pines and we were in danger of being eaten by wolves.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
adfamiliares and I had a conversation that went something like this:
"I don't feel like we're walking to a place we can vote."
"No."
"I feel like we're walking toward a creepy abandoned barn in a field somewhere."
"Yes."
"Where some guy with a hook for a hand waits for us."
"Yes."
[pause]
"Yay democracy!"
After learning that West Fenlon only went up to 35 before turning into New Street, we trooped back home and discovered the existence of East Fenlon, which is a vermicular little street that lives on the other side of the cemetery from West Fenlon (and not, as you might expect, connected to it). Voting was accomplished, using those old-timey voting booths with the curtain that whooshes shut behind you when you pull the lever. Total elapsed time: ninety minutes, of which maybe two were spent in the polling place. This seems like a long time, until you remember the four hours we spent voting in Oberlin last year. Of course, we didn't get free pizza, either.
I supported capitalism as well as democracy today, with my purchase of the new MST3K collection and A Feast for Crows (that being the long-awaited continuance of George R.R. Martin's fantasy epic, not, like, a pile of corn or something). Happy me.
Google Maps lied to us, telling us that 37 Fenlon St. was on the dimly-lit, sidewalk-lacking, leaf-bestrewn West Fenlon St., where the moon shone through tall pines and we were in danger of being eaten by wolves.
adfamiliares and I had a conversation that went something like this:"I don't feel like we're walking to a place we can vote."
"No."
"I feel like we're walking toward a creepy abandoned barn in a field somewhere."
"Yes."
"Where some guy with a hook for a hand waits for us."
"Yes."
[pause]
"Yay democracy!"
After learning that West Fenlon only went up to 35 before turning into New Street, we trooped back home and discovered the existence of East Fenlon, which is a vermicular little street that lives on the other side of the cemetery from West Fenlon (and not, as you might expect, connected to it). Voting was accomplished, using those old-timey voting booths with the curtain that whooshes shut behind you when you pull the lever. Total elapsed time: ninety minutes, of which maybe two were spent in the polling place. This seems like a long time, until you remember the four hours we spent voting in Oberlin last year. Of course, we didn't get free pizza, either.
I supported capitalism as well as democracy today, with my purchase of the new MST3K collection and A Feast for Crows (that being the long-awaited continuance of George R.R. Martin's fantasy epic, not, like, a pile of corn or something). Happy me.
