At 6:30 AM she sticks her head out the door and shouts, "The polls are open!"
There are five poll-workers inside. I'm the only person outside
It's Election Day for the off-year municipal primary. I haven't missed a municipal primary in years. I haven't even missed a run-off municipal primary in years
But I'm not here to vote: I did that weeks ago at the board of elections, on the very first day of early voting period. I'm here to hand out campaign literature
I've never decided clearly whether this is a worthwhile activity, so I don't always do it. When I go to vote, I always know exactly how I plan to vote. Somebody sticking a card in my hand at the last minute has no effect on me at all
But I think this is an important primary, so here I am. Here we all are: me in the lonely parking lot, and the five poll-workers inside, and the dark cloudy sky just before dawn
I've agreed to do this for two hours this morning. There's nothing to do right now: I figure if I stroll down and back along this slab of concrete a hundred fifty times or so, my shift will be up
People do start trickling in. I offer what I have. A few ignore more. But surprisingly, in this conservative precinct, most seem to be on my side. Turn-out plays a role in off-year primaries, and days of door-knocking might have paid off
One woman grabs my endorsement list: yes, these are exactly the people she planned to vote for, but she forgot their names just as she parked
I chat briefly with a fellow I met twice a year and a half ago and re-learn his name
Another man looks over my endorsements and says that he doesn't know one of the candidates but that I've persuaded him how to vote. I have no idea whether I should believe that. I thank him and wish him a good day
There's one about every five minutes. I pace between the encounters. I think maybe I need to get a life
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