Kudos, me. I just exercised my constitutional right to vote.
I don’t know what the weather’s like in the rest of the country, but dammit, it was a beautiful day to vote in sunny Los Angeles. Mid-60s, sunny, gentle breeze. Why, it was all I could do to keep myself from swirling like Maria Von Trapp down to the polling station. Luckily, I got a hold of myself and managed to maintain proper poise and composure during the entire experience. I was, however, miffed to find out that I was not allowed to take pictures inside the polling station. I guess that’s to be expected, but The New York Times certainly got my hopes up to the contrary. Yes, the old Gray Lady’s been hosting this alleged “Polling Place Photo Project,” which has been soliciting readers to submit pictures of their voting experiences. As a result, I just assumed I’d be able to snap a few shots of my fellow citizens doing their patriotic duty, but alas, I was informed warmly that my inner Gilles Bensimone had no place in this polling outpost. Fear not though. I still managed to document the voting experience — completely legally too. Photos after the jump…
As you can see, it’s a beautiful day to vote.
Super Tuesday brings Super Parking Rules. However, being the global citizen that I am, I opt to eschew motor transport altogether, instead hoofing it to my local polling station.
Strangely, I find myself inexplicably drawn to taking photos of cars parked on the street. It must be because it’s so damn beautiful out.
That’s my polling place. It’s so quaint. I feel like I’ll emerge with a care basket and a scented candle.
Seriously, there are dogs frolicking out front. It’s like I’m about to step into the opening credits of The Hogan Family.
Sadly, no photos were allowed inside; so I recreated the voting booth experience by using leftover pizza boxes from the Super Bowl. I also employed the fine service of two Triscuit boxes, both of which proved to be ample buttresses in this time of need.
Here’s me voting, careful not to punch the wrong hole. Why California doesn’t use those nifty voting machines with the curtains and the levers is beyond me.
Here’s me successfully completing my ballot. It should be noted that I did NOT make this face at the polling station.
And here’s me proudly casting my vote. Again, not quite representative of my actual behavior as I did not submit my ballot into a shredder, much like this image would suggest.
Ultimately, I received my little sticker, which is really all that matters.
And lastly, here’s me exercising my constitutional right to take stupid photos of the sticker attached to a sumo figurine. A fairly successful day, if I say so myself.
