Today, I worked as an election judge.

This is not a career I recommend if you don’t like showing up at 5 AM, leaving at 8:30 PM, or having versions of the law apparently beamed in from the planet Zzaxmarr screamed in your face. Not to mention, this is Chicago, for God’s sakes - you know, the city that stole the presidential election for Kennedy, the city that STILL has a Mayor Daley (as of this moment he has 79% of the vote) after even I’ve lost count of how many years, the city of the legendary Democratic Machine. Getting people to not vote illegally is something of an uphill battle around here.

On the other hand, if you like the feeling of being the grist in the mill of democracy, or $155, it could be the job for you!

Of course, the good stories are only really of interest to other election judges (“When Mrs. X came back, she was claiming that she had moved to her new address within the last 30 days, but I asked her the date of the move and she said Jan. 1! BOO-YAH!”) but you sure can’t stop me from posting them!

Now, the law here prohibits “electioneeering” (putting up signs, passing out campaign materials, mentioning the names of candidates) within 100 feet of the entrance to the polling place. Now, we decided on a particularly liberal interpretation of that law, and set up a no-fly zone of a good couple hundred feet of sidewalk - considerably larger than it’s ever been. Our assigned police officer, and those of us who felt like a break, had quite a time shooing away passers and destroying signs. The best part came at maybe 2:00 - when we broke out the tape measure.

Also, the following people voted in our precinct:
A Mrs. Couch.
A Mr. Colon.
A Jennifer Lopez.

People denied the right to vote by DORK Club staffers today: 2