It's 10:17 am on a Tuesday.
The third day of November.
A giant line across the street from my house has been building in size all morning long.
I wonder what's going on?
While gathering my credentials, I put my boots on and head over to the park to see what's up.
There's six people outside all wearing masks while maintaining a noticeable distance from one another.
Hmmm.
I don't want to be the only weird guy at the party, so I decide to head back home and find my gas mask before I ask what's going on.
Masked up
Now, I approach the park house.
Suddenly, there's four additional people in the line. While three of the original six disappeared.
Something's definitely going on.
Instead of asking any questions, I head to the back of line and stand there in silence.
Seems like a friendly crowd.
Like everyone knows each other.
Even the dogs are on a first name basis.
What kind of party is this?
Until a heavy-set man wearing khaki slacks, brown shoes with a black belt walks out of the park house door.
He gives the rest of the crowd the cold shoulder and walks right up to me.
Here's my chance to get some answers
"Are you here to vote, sir?"
Before I could even ask my question, he asked me a question.
I didn't have enough time to respond, so I just nodded my head.
No further words were said.
Thanks to the masks over our mouths, the rest of the conversation was done via eye contact.
His eyes were receiving.
He gave me a piece of paper and a pen to fill out some information.
So I did. No questions asked.
I won't go into detail about the documentation, however, it looked very similar to job application.
I just hope I didn't sign up for another subscription.
The large man in charge didn't dive into any detail.
Time seems to be standing still.
Before I know it, I'm next one in line.
I turn around, and see that the line has grown....
I haven't seen one person walk out after they walked in. It seems like a one-way-street.
It's tough to see what's going on out here. I left my sunglasses at home.
At this point,
The large man in the khaki pants, rocking brown shoes with a black belt, is no where to be found.
He could be gone for all I know.
Then, a woman wearing a plaid skirt with a blue mask opens up the door.
She greets me with a smile.
I could tell under the mask she was smiling. Her eyes told that story.
"Is paper alright with you? Or would you rather wait for an electronic version?
Before any words come out of my mouth, my head nods yes.
Maybe I signed up for a survey?
I hope they pay me at the end.
