Petersen: The price to vote
At last! Midterm elections are over — mostly. And of course, everybody’s happy. Hugs and kisses are flying back and forth twixt all politicians. Makes a person feel all warm and tingly.
I did my civic duty and drove to town to vote. No one got hurt.
Voting location in my small town is the Civic Center. I pulled into a handicap spot at the curb (close to civic doors) then I extracted myself and cane from my vehicle. The curb at that spot is extra high. As I was struggling to shove self onto said curbing, a rancher friend stopped his pickup and called, “Need some help?” I responded that I did. “Hang on” he said, and parked his rig.
He bounced over to me, hoisted me onto the sidewalk, then had me hang onto his arm and walked me into the civic — which has multiple stairs to get to lobby-floor level. Once there, I said I was fine and could manage the rest on my own.
A host-woman — there to answer voting questions — inquired, “May I help you?”
“Well,” I said, “I’m losing my trousers.” (I’d forgotten a belt and greatly feared my jeans would drop to my knees and onward to the ankles which, I surmised, might be inappropriate.)
Host lady offered to pull up my drawers. And proceeded to yank trouser waistline up to my personal waistline. Safe from embarrassment, I shuffled into the voting area.
A bunch of tables scattered here and there represented various districts. M precinct was, of course, the table situated in the far corner of the room. Leaning on cane, I shambled over, showed my “ID” to prove I’m me and still alive.
I had two choices of stations where I could vote. One in a chair at a table or one in a stand-up booth. I chose stand-up as the chair-voting area was wayyyy over there which meant having to shuffle a ways over there which meant that when finished voting, I’d have to shuffle alllll the way back to turn in my vote papers.
I parked my cane against the booth. (Cane promptly fell down). I got the little ovals on the voting forms filled in with black. A nice woman from the precinct table hastened over and picked up my cane. I handed over the voting papers and shuffled off.
In the lobby, I noticed a table set up as if someone were selling something. Nope. Turned out a medical person was there to give flu shots to people.
“Oh, hey, I’ll get one,” I said. (A nice opportunity for not having to remember to make another trip to town to the clinic.) I sat down and propped my cane against the table edge. Cane promptly fell down.
I was wearing a chore coat which meant I had to shed a sleeve to get to my arm. Medical person tried to help. She was standing and therefore pulled upward which only trapped my arm. Finally, I advised her to lower the tug-angle so she could pull down and I could pull out.
Finally got flu shot just fine. No problem. I signed off on flu-shot papers. Medical person kindly picked up my floor-hugging cane and handed it to me.
Next challenge: Get up off low chair. In the lobby area, a cluster of first-time voting young men lingered. Medical person gal signaled them to come help me. Two of the well-over-6-foot dudes approached. I instructed, “Use two hands and pull on one-two-three.”
Each guy placed my hand in their palms — kinda like we might be about to waltz. As I counted, “one”, each lifted straight upwards and I found myself floating up to vertical. They didn’t even need to brace to pull, they merely gently lifted. (They did not, however, lead me into a waltz.)
I thanked them. They turned and rejoined their group. Host-lady escorted me to my vehicle. I wedged myself in and drove home.
As mentioned, I voted during midterm elections.
Obtained a flu shot to prevent winter illness.
Got hoisted by two young dudes to make my heart flutter.
No one got hurt. ❖