This morning I voted at my usual polling place: the tiny little VFW Hall on Western Avenue. To get to the voting booths you have to pass through the bar–past the row of stools and the bar counter and the big mirror behind it and the back shelf with all the different bottles, two of each brand. Evidently veterans prefer the brown liquor. They’re not so much into the clear stuff; no sissy gin or Commie vodka for them.
I had time to consider this, of course, since I was waiting in line. The line was much longer than usual and there were more people than I’d ever seen there. I heard the poll judges saying the same thing, and then, all day long, I’ve been hearing about it on the news, too.
So if you find yourself in a long line tonight, please hang in there. Bring a magazine just in case. Play with your cell phone. Try that thing where you can text-message Google and ask it to look up all kinds of stuff. Chew lots of gum. Hang in there.
