Clearly we must be overwhelmed with election euphoria, or something, for last night Tom and I found ourselves attempting to vote in an election we weren’t even involved in! This is what happened.
Tom was working late last night and picked me up from knitting at K1 (where I completed the stocking stitch socks). As we neared home, I noticed that the streets were lined with campaign posters. “Is there an election going on or something?” I asked. “Dunno,” said Tom, “I’ve not heard anything about it. . . ” We then drove past the primary school where we usually exercise our democratic rights.
“POLLING PLACE” the sign outside declared.
“But what election is it?” I asked, “we’ve not had our polling cards delivered. . . ”
“Well, theres that by-election in Glenrothes,” said Tom, “and now I come to think of, I *did* see other campaign posters up around Baillieston last week. . .”
“There is an election of some sort!” said I, “we must vote in it!”
We looked at the clock on the dashboard. The polls would be closing very soon.
“Come on then,” said Tom, “we’ve only got ten minutes to engage in the political process.”
Six rosette-sporting candidates lined the entrance to the polling station.
“Good evening,” they said hopefully
“Good evening,” we replied, in the confident and inscrutable manner of the electorate choosing their representatives.
“Good evening!” said Tom to the man behind the desk, “we’re here to vote!”
“Are you in Forth?” said the man
“Excuse me?” said Tom
“Are you in Forth?”
“This is where we vote,” said I, indicating the school classroom, “this is where we *always* vote.”
“Yes,” said the man, “but there’s only an election in Forth. . .” he lowered his voice, ” . . because of a death. Do you live at one of those addresses?” He indicated a list on the wall.
“Um, no. . . ”
“Then you’re not in Forth,” he said, “you can’t vote.”
“Goodbye,” said the candidates as we shuffled out.
“Goodbye,” we said, sheepish.
EDIT: Tom has insisted that I mention what really happened at this point, viz, that it was only me that was sheepish, while he told the conservative candidate “I wouldn’t have voted for you anyway.”
Now, I am frankly much more embarrassed by the fact that we did not know there was a by-election for the city council seat in the ward next to ours than I am by the experience of trying to vote when I wasn’t even supposed to. Anyway, you can see the results of the election we weren’t involved in here.
*A Beiderbecke Affair reference.
PS thankyou so much for all your suggestions about the return of the mojo, and what do do with the cardigan. Many of your comments were so incredibly psychologically accurate it was really quite spooky. I intend to do some sewing, and ponder the fate of the cardigan.