Electoral Race

He pulled in right before me in a white pick up truck. I nabbed the empty space that wasn't really an actual parking space. I raced out of my car and followed him down the hill, past the winding stairs to the Northeast of the building. Even though I'm a very fast walker, I just couldn't catch up to him. When we rounded the corner, I caught sight of the line. The very long line of voters all looking right at me.

I lined up directly behind Mr. White Pick Up Truck. It would be an hour wait. He popped in his ear buds to his i-pod. I scrounged through my purse for anything. I usually have a book in there, but not today. Sometimes I carry a notebook, but the kids finished off the last page of that a couple days before. What I did have was my cell phone. So I sent a text to 4 friends looking for sympathy.

"Holy crap its an hour wait to vote at woodmen chapel right now" (I would have added an exclamation mark, but the punctuation doesn't work on my phone.)

My friends are all smarter than me and voted via mail. And reminded me of that via text.

One of my friends responded "No way! Do you need me to bring you a sandwich? I can bring you a sandwich!" (Obviously, her punctuation works.)

Which made me laugh out loud, with a subsequent snort in a painfully quiet congregation. So I embarrassed myself? What's new? And who the hell do I know here anyway? Ok, so I know the Vice Principal of my kids school. And now she knows I have hilarious friends who make me snort in public. Whatever.

While I'm texting, I'm also totally sizing up the guy in front of me, from the back. I ascertain he's about 6'2" tall. He's got a short haired dog. Well, at least one, maybe two because he's got dog hair all over his black Quicksilver sweatshirt. I'm going to venture to say he's single and currently doesn't have a girlfriend because he's also got several stains on said hoodie. And if he had a girlfriend, she'd probably Shout those stains out. Anyway, I'm going to guess he's either a plumber or an electrician because he doesn't really have an ass. And I associate those jobs with being professions that don't attract asses. That's probably prejudiced of me, but I don't care. Prove me wrong, ok? His flip flops further confirms he's on his feet a lot. But, he doesn't exfoliate them often.

So, I get all this info from the back of him. Oh, I also caught a side profile and while he shaves his head, he did miss a couple beard hairs. If I had some tweezers in my purse I would have helped him out with that. But, as luck would have it, I didn't. That might have been a bit awkward anyhow. I've now had over 45 minutes to ponder his life, but the thing is, he has sunglasses on. So, I can't tell if he's hot or not. And frankly, after having pondered it over for the last 45 minutes, I really, really want to know. You know you want to too.

We're almost inside. He'll take his sunglasses off in there. The anticipation is freaking killing me. Finally, it happens. Glasses are off. But, I don't want to look right at his face, cause that would be socially inappropriate. Kind of like me stalking him, making up crap and writing something I'm gonna post on the internet. That inappropriate.

When I finally catch a glimpse, you know, subtly, I'm shocked to see he has blue eyes (not what I was expecting) with light brown eye lashes (also, not what I was expecting). What's your vote on this combination? Hot or not?

I get my ballot right after he does. I head to my not-so-private-privacy-cubicle where I search through my purse, only to discover I left my reading glasses at home. Don't worrry, I'm positive I didn't inadvertantly vote for the douchebag. Anyhow, I finish and end up in line to turn it in to the election lady who doesn't know how to stick my ballot in the weird printer looking vaccuum thingy either. But, guess who's right behind me in line? Yup, Mr. White Pick Up Truck. I totally beat him to the poll.

I won!

I won!

Now, let's just hope the douchebag doesn't!