Here's my voting story from a few years ago, and it is not 'political.' We vote at a small church down the road. The folks who supervise are, shall we say, from the greatest generation and are not the most acute in the 'hearing' department. So, I walk up to the makeshift counter, the old guy behind it says "howarya?" To which I reply: "I'm groovy." He says: "That's line 'G'".
Now, the killer, on top of that, is that 'line G' is right there, next to line 'F' and line 'H', right in front of him. Color me confused too.
The machine seems to be worn out. Or at least that's what the lady monitoring it thinks, because after the previous voter leaves the curtained enclosure, they can't really get it to re-set, and they are not sure they tallied her vote. Of course, the voter has already left the building, or damn near, by the time they figure this out, and monitor lady races (well, she was wearing sneakers), so despite her advanced years, she managed to snag the now departing voter and bring her back. Then we had to go through a manual voting procedure, just in case. I asked the lady monitor: "What happens if the machine actually counted her vote? Won't that be two votes?" She looked at me, dumbfounded.
I waved to the old guy after I voted. He said "howarya?"
And so it goes.