Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Are you registered to vote?

I heard something on the news the other day about some election thing and Arnold and firemen and everyone being mad at each other. This normally strikes massive fear in my heart, but this time it just went into one ear and out the other.

Why does this strike fear in my heart? Am I particularly afraid of elections? Arnold? Firemen? No. Simply put, elections = the "Are you registered to vote?" lady at the BART station.

She is my forgotten nemesis.

She looks like a troll in her hippy skirts and long tunic blouse, long hair, bangles and necklaces and sandaled-up feet. She's shorter then me, so that probably makes her about 5 feet, and she goes to person after person while carrying her clipboard of evil, asking them if they are registered to vote.

When this first happened to me years ago, I followed the last person's path, and I simply said, "no." That's easy enough. For whatever reason she goes away pretty quickly then. She seems to only care if you have registered and therefore, have the capability of voting, and even more therefore, you can sign her clipboard of evil. But she doesn't seem to care enough to sign you up to vote if you say no.

So I said no, she shuffled a few steps over to the next victim and then finally disappeared (or I got on a train -- luckily she doesn't get on the train). Then the next day, there she was again, asking me if I was registered to vote. I sighed, said no, and basically the day before was repeated.

On the third day, I got annoyed. Here she came again, asking me again if I was registered to vote. I thought to myself, I'm going to take a stand. I'm not going to put up with this. I don't feel like I have the right to go up to strangers and ask them the same question, or their religious affiliation, or how much money they have in the bank, so what gives her the right to ask me three times if I'm registered to vote? So I told troll-lady that she already asked me this question the two days previous, so I wasn't going to answer her.

Troll-lady didn't like that.

She sorta spat on me (I believe accidentally since it wasn't a good wad of spit) and yelled that she can't remember everyone, everyday, and that I was the millionth white, brown-haired lady she's seen just today.

I just looked at her. What are you going to say to that? She does have a point, but she's also got to realize she's doing something that will annoy the average person. It was her decision, not mine. My decision was that I wouldn't become a clipboard of evil carrying troll-lady who bothers people daily about being registered to vote. Instead, I am invisible girl (although, as you can see, it doesn't work all the time).

At this point, I should add, the clipboard of evil is for signatures to get things on the ballot. Just in case you didn't get that from the beginning.

So there I was yesterday with my ear buds (yes, the cheap $7.99 ones) in and book in hand when -- low and behold -- here comes troll-lady! As soon as I heard her, I thought, man....I should have known! Darn you Arnold and the fireman! And I could hear her because of my cheapo $7.99 ear buds -- sorta like listening to music in a tin can.

She shuffled up to me and asked, "are you registered to vote?"

I kept my eyes down at my book, hoping she would notice the wires coming out of my ears and then leave me alone. But no. Troll-lady doesn't take crap from anyone. And I simply cannot be invisible all the time -- only when it doesn't benefit me.

"ARE YOU REGISTERED TO VOTE?????" she asked me louder.

I kept staring at my book and ignoring her and hoping my invisible shield would pop up. Finally she moved away.

If only someone would accidentally knock troll-lady onto the track way. If only my cell phone worked underground and I could call the BART police and say she's bothering me. Sigh. And from the way the news made it sound, I think I have plenty of time to encounter troll-lady until the election. I think. Not sure. I should probably pay more attention to that than when the next spare the air day will be upon us.

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