Here’s hoping that all my U.S. readers will be experiencing some variation on what I did this morning (but maybe without the same level of chaos). The crowded gymnasium at PS9 in Brooklyn grew more and more crowded as I picked through the masses to find the correct line, chatted a little with my fellow voters, and got chastized by a bullying election worker with a West Indian-sounding accent. Things would have gone much more smoothly had there been more such workers (bullying or not) helping people through the process. Still, as is usual in NYC, people peacefully self-organized and got on with their business, with a little grumbling here and there.
The line inched slowly forward until I, too, found myself in the booth under the basketball hoop, to flip the switches, check and doublecheck my vote, and, finally, crank the lever. It’s done. At least for me. And you?
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