Yesterday, I was the first in line at 6 am. I was a bit ambitious getting there so early and the darkened parking lot proved it. But, once the sun started rising a bit, another car showed up. I hopped out-determined to be the first.
Trailing just slightly behind me was a classy “gray haired” decked out in red, white and blue. She had a compact with a powder puffy thing still intact which she used to check her red lipstick. I wore a black peacoat and had a tube of homemade lip balm.
Seemingly worlds apart, I decided to strike up a conversation with Number #2 while we waited and see how our worlds just might overlap. We were probably 40 years apart, but soon realized we couldn’t have been more similar.
I teased her that even though Oklahoma is now an “Open-Carry” state, she wasn’t allowed to bring her gun inside the church (our polling location). She told me to shut off my “fancy cell phone device”. We talked about stay-at-home mom’s versus working mom’s (she had been both), about what part of the neighborhood we lived in and where we grew up.
The one thing both of us avoided talking about was politics. Which was ironic as we stood in line to vote for the biggest election that I can remember. She told me how the whole system worked, having been on the other side of the table more than 30 years.
We both agreed there should have been fancier booths rather than the plastic separation devices perched atop a makeshift table. And, we both agreed there should be more balloons and streamers once our ballot was eaten by the alien-voting-tabulating-machine.
Then she asked me how I had come upon my decision to vote. And that’s what stopped me cold. How do I tell a complete stranger that I not only review the issues, the background of the candidate, their track record-but most importantly-I pray about it? Sounds rather hokey.
But, I did.
And she smiled. And winked. And then she said, “That’s the best way to do it, hun.”