Well I am catching enough grief for this at home, I may as well post it here so everyone can have some fun at my expense. When it comes right down to it, that’s why I’m here.
Okay, so I love politics. I’m not sure why, but it just fascinates me. Take the whole election process for example, I love how it works. So much so, that I thought I might volunteer to be an election clerk. I thought it would be a great way for me to learn about the process and see how it really works so I sent in an application which was promptly accepted. I was excited about going to the training class but when I got there I had two surprises.
Surprise number one; I got there ten minutes early like I do for everything, but somehow, I was the last one there! How could this be? I knew I had the right time. Well here’s how it could be: Surprise number two; I was the only one there under the age of 94! I kid you not, I felt like a busboy at S&S Cafeteria. It goes without saying they were all retired and had absolutely nothing else to do. Hell, they were probably all sitting there for hours before I strolled in.
Well the whole training class, including videos, seemed to be made for slow adults. When it came time to learn how to use the electronic voting decoder, I got bored doing the same simple step over, and over, and over and over again, so I started pushing other buttons and scrolling through menus to see what else it could do. Instantly I was flanked by two training facilitators. These guys were much younger than the rest of us. I’d have to say they were in their mid eighties. They each (one at a time) had to tell me what I had done wrong, how I had done it wrong, how easily it could have been to do it wrong and how I shouldn’t be embarrassed to make a mistake.
At the end of the class, we were given time to take a short quiz and fill out a class evaluation. It took me four or five minutes. I spent the next twenty minutes doodling, cleaning my glasses, cleaning out my wallet, arranging sheets of paper in front of me; across, up and down and diagonally, and kicking myself for leaving my palm pilot in the car. When the Trainer called time, the lady next to me actually said “Doh.”
On the way out the door, the lady in front of me accidently knocked the evaluation sheet out of my hand causing it to land on the table specifically designated for the quiz sheets. Guess who was standing at the quiz sheet table? Mortimer and Herman, the facilitators. They each (one at a time) had to tell me what I had done wrong, how I had done it wrong, how easily it could have been to do it wrong and how I shouldn’t be embarrassed to make a mistake.
All I wanted to do was GET OUT OF THERE. Have you ever tried to navigate amongst a crowd of 90-year-olds? Me neither. I had to shuffle along with them all the way out to the parking lot. By the way, the parking lot should have been my first clue. I hadn’t noticed until I left that it was slam full of Buick LeSabres, Lincoln Town Cars and Crown Victorias.