M or B

I voted for John Kerry today at P.S. 165, three block from my apartment. The kids were selling donutes and cake and hot cider, clearly they knew how to take advantage of a financial opportunity. Good little capitalists. I signed up at a long lunchroom table staffed with earnest if slightly inefficient poll workers.

“What letter does your last name start with?”

“M,” I said.

“B?”

“M.”

Repeat for added entertainment.

The voting machines themselves were old gray metal contraptions from the 50’s, the kind of thing you’d see in shop class back in the day. One of them was broken so I had Nabokov’s Speak, Memory for company during the thirty minute wait. There weren’t any Republican challengers (shame!) questioning our right to vote. My guess is that they knew Manhattan was a lost cause. Either that or they knew they’d get beaten down by the little old Jewish ladies of the Upper West Side.

Afterwards I got an everything with herb tofutti at Absolute Bagels. It was still warm.

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