As many of you know (God, I hope you know because if you don’t, then we’re really in trouble) that election day is right around the corner. The number of politically aware grandparents with clipboards on campus has grown exponentially since August. I’m all for voting, but I dread the thought of being approached by political canvassers.
Just the other day, as I was partaking in the 12 pm mass exodus from Mosse Humanities building, I was approached. Shrill music echoed aggressively in my ears, growing louder and louder as the tiny ancient woman neared my territory. After this experience, I now sympathize with every character in the film JAWS.
The woman, who looked like if every librarian i’ve ever met morphed into one person, tapped my shoulder and said “Honey, did you vote yet?” I was shocked. Me? Vote? Pshhh...you mean me? Why wouldn’t I? What was this woman even asking?
In my right hand, I was holding a Colectivo cappuccino, and in the other, I was holding an article from The New York Times. I was wearing an infinity scarf and graphic t-shirt with baggy pants. It was like I was begging to be mistaken for a struggling performance artist. My shoes were purposely worn out for aesthetic purposes. I could buy new shoes, yeah, but why would I when I look this Indie?
This woman--this adorable democratic woman--mistook me, for someone who didn’t vote. I am essentially the female Timothee Chalamet. Recently, I posted some really preachy shit about gun reform and Stacey Abrams. I’m not even from Georgia. And then after that, I purchased a pin that reads “grab them by the midterms.”
I am well aware that I will never be able to wear this pin to any family function or funeral, but damnit, when I’m in line at my local record shop, my pin is going to be the star of the show. So yes, canvasser, I did vote..I voted so damn hard. What about my liberal-ass outfit makes you think I didn’t?