After the pancake supper at church tonight (those Episcopalians aren’t very good at potlucks, but they do pancakes right) we went to vote in the Minnesota Caucus. Traffic was backed up about a mile, cops were directing traffic and we had to park in a cul de sac and walk.
Once we got inside it was crazy. We had to find the room for our specific precinct, but I think half the county was there so there were a few dozen rooms. We finally found which room we needed to be in and set off down a random hall to find it. We eventually found a packed room in the midst of caucusing.
The volunteer at the door asked me to sign in (name, address, phone number, e-mail, signature–no ID required) then handed me a scrap of paper to vote in the presidential preference poll. He pointed to a chalk board with a list of a dozen names and told me to write down my candidate and stick it in the envelope. He pointed to an crammed #10 envelope sitting on a desk.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“That’s as official as we get,” he said with a shrug.
Nicole and I were very disappointed as well. We show up at the firehouse/police station, go in the wrong door, ask the nice officer where we are supposed to be and he has no idea. Fortunately, someone else knew. Apparently, the officer couldn’t find the polling place in his own 1500 sq. ft. building.
Then we walk in, grab the nominating form from our party, fill in the circle, slide it in the optical scanner, and we’re done. Took about 90 seconds. We wanted to linger to remember the experience of voting in a large garage with glass doors and fire trucks, but we didn’t.