SC, strippers and voting
driver01
Florida
Strip Club time-- I enter familiar territory, nestle up to the bar and am joined shortly thereafter by a dancer I have enjoyed on previous occasions. She sees the sticker on my lapel(I had forgotten about it) and proceeds to tell me all about why she was going to vote for the same candidate F the polling place "lobbyists" were promoting to me earlier that day. Turns out she had never voted before and wasn't familiar with the concept of being registered to vote-lol. She was enthusiastic though in her support of her candidate- said the SC owner was supporting him and she liked the owner so it made sense to her to support candidate F- alrighty then. I mentioned that she was preaching to the wrong guy since my vote had already been cast.
As luck would have it, who walks into the club but the very same guy from the polling place. I'm thinking, what are the odds of this? He approaches the bar and recognizes me. Walks right up and starts in with how liberating the voting experience was, etc, etc. Not wanting to be rude and before he could get on another roll I took the opportunity to introduce voter of candidate F to dancer who is not registered to vote for candidate F. And that was all it took. I was able to slip to the other side of the bar and they didn't even notice-lol. Within 10 minutes, they were off to the VIP and I never saw either one of them again for the remaining 45 minutes I was there.
As I left, it dawned on me that the hottest dancer in the club was in the back with dorkiest guy in the club giving a whole new meaning to the expression that politics makes strange bedfellows--lol. Of course, as with politics, bringing some cash to the table helps:)
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2000, I lived in Florida. Pinellas County ... as far as I know, they didn't count my vote.
By 2004 I'd moved to Mississippi, but I still voted absentee in Florida. I requested my ballot, it came to me about two weeks before the deadline. I filled it out, etc. It had all sorts of fancy arrangements, an envelope within an envelope to be signed, etc. The outer sheaf was a final envelope with nothing but the address of the registrar of voters in Pinellas County, Florida. NOTHING ELSE.
So, I fill it all out, put it in this proper and obvious outer sheaf, affix sufficient postage (at the counter, with a fellow in a USPS uniform weighing it for me), drop it off, away it goes.
Two days later it is IN MY PERSONAL MAILBOX.
Yup.
The USPS looked at it, said to themselves, "Hey, this looks like a voting ballot. We'd better open it up to see whose it is. Oh, it belongs to this dude who lives right here in Mississippi. Well, we'll make sure he gets it!"
They were supposed to (a) read the destination address on the exterior of the envelope, and (b) SEND IT THERE. Duh. Just as they do for every single other item of mail they ever encounter. But because it looked like, "Oh, this is voting, that's fancy," they WENT OUT OF THEIR WAY to screw it up.
Welcome to voting in America.
I took the tattered shreds and Fed Exed them to Florida at my own expense. I'm sure that the problems with the outer envelopes prevented my vote from being counted (though there's NO WAY TO FIND OUT). So, in 2000 they didn't count my vote, and in 2004 they didn't count my vote.