if you’re an obama lover, or you’re sick of the usual blah ditty blah of political news coverage these days, here’s a rather endearing story i came across over at lyndsey’s blog, for the love of fashion.
lyndsey’s friend forwarded her this email, about a (cute) girl named rachel’s voting experience yesterday in chicago:
I wanted to fill you all in on the drama I experienced first hand today…and all before 7am. It started with a 5am wakeup call from my early bird boyfriend. I had to get up and get ready for SUPER TUESDAY. My polling site is open from 6am to 7pm today and I knew that I would not be able to make it during the evening hours, thus leaving the early morning as the only alternative. I get ready, grab a cab and arrive promptly at 6:05 to cast my vote…or so I thought.
In the building where I was to vote, there were two precincts: 37 and 38 (I was in 38). 37 was up and running with people voting left and right. 38 on the other hand, not so much. Of the 5 election judges scheduled to arrive at 5am to set up for the big day, 4 did NOT show up. There were a few volunteers running around trying to scramble and get the machines set up, ballots organized and voting booths assembled. Needless to say, at 6:05, they were definitely not ready to start operations. So, I asked if I could vote with the folks in 37, but of course, that is not allowed. 38 told me they would be ready for me around 6:45. Obviously, I did not want to stand around for 45 minutes waiting to vote when I had to get to work for an early meeting. So, I found a number on the wall that directed me to the voter hotline – a number you are to call in case of emergency. I call the lovely folks there and after being transferred several times, a woman comes on the line. I ask her what Plan B might be in my case given that I wasn’t allowed to vote. Her answer…”there is no Plan B, you can’t vote.” Apparently I live in Florida.
Unacceptable, So, what do I do? I call [my boyfriend] and complain to him…and he of course listens to me rant and rave. In the midst of my rant, I turn around to face the precinct and who do I see? Oprah and her body guard. Oprah votes in precinct 37.
[My boyfriend] hears me stop dead in my tracks and asks what is going on…I tell him about Oprah’s arrival and he says, “I bet she can do something about this!”
So, I run over to her body guard (she is in the room voting) and tell him the situation. I of course make sure to tell him I am voting for Obama…I figured that would resonate with her. I give him my business card and he says he will make sure she knows what is going on. Ten minutes later, out walks Oprah from her precinct. I am busily typing emails and texts on my blackberry about who I just saw and then I notice she is approaching me. Yes, Oprah is walking toward ME!
She introduces herself (unnecessarily) and asks what the story is…which I am delighted to tell her. She tells me she is going to stay with me until they let me vote. Minutes pass by and nothing. (Meanwhile Oprah and I are chatting away) So, Oprah wants her presence to be known and steps in MY precinct to put the pressure on them. Low and behold, they tell me they are ready for me and that I can finally vote. Oprah bids me farewell and tells me she will call me later to verify that I was able to vote.
I cast my vote, and yes it was for Obama, I didn’t lie. I leave feeling pretty excited about my morning. I arrive at work and tell my colleagues the exiting morning I have…and then…my cell phone rings. It’s OPRAH herself…she wanted to make sure I was in fact able to vote. She also called Chanel 7 news (personally) and took the liberty of giving them my name and story. She thinks it is important our story is heard.
and then the story got scooped by channel 7 news and CNN.