Credit: S.J. Freeze
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I voted for the first time today. Mr. Universe didn’t make it too easy on me — I was turned away at the first polling location (apparently our precinct lines are a bit kooky) and sent “back yonder” to go place my vote in someone’s garage. #SeemsLegit.
I finally tracked down a woman who possessed knowledge of the address to said mysteriously-located garage (after getting lost trying to follow landmark directions given by previous polling location) … and then my GPS decided to stop cooperating.
But did I give up? NO. Was I tempted to say, “Fuck it!” and go home? A little. But I put real pants on for this occasion, damn it, and I was going to place my vote!
Eventually, the GPS kicked back in and I found my way to the garage and did the dang thang.
I do feel a little robbed, though. I didn’t get a friggin’ fancy sticker.
So, my dudes, did you get out and vote?
Was it in a garage? Is that, like, a thing? The Teen says it sounds shady…