This morning, around 8:30 a.m., I walk into the elementary school where I attended kindergarten and where I now vote. Well, first I stand in a bit of a line, recognize one of the poll workers from high school, enjoy the interesting attire of some of my fellow voters, and am told to tell my parents “hello” by one of the other poll workers who I think might live down the street from me. And then I fork over my ID, not my voter registration card, sign my name on the appropriate line, and fill out my ballot. And then I feed that ballot into the machine. I am number 181.
As I walk out, I ask for an “I Voted” sticker. “Sorry,” the rather small, very apologetic poll worker says. “All gone.”
I am outraged. I want a sticker. StickerHunt 2012. I get to D Magazine worldwide headquarters, and find that no one else has stickers, either. I call the Dallas County Elections Office. I press 0, since I don’t need to know where to vote or how to vote in absentia. I just want a sticker. I wait in a silent holding pattern for 10 minutes. A nice lady answers. I ask if the office has any “I Voted” stickers, since my polling place and several others seem to be fresh out. She asks me to hang on. I hang on. She asks me to hang on again. I do.
“Sorry,” she says. “We don’t have any more.”
Is there any place else to get them? No, she says. I stop hanging on and hang up the phone.
Since I won’t be wearing a sticker, if you see me, please know that I’m a civic minded individual who marked a piece of paper multiple times with a Sharpie today, but also someone who forgot to put the battery in her real camera so she has to use her cell phone to take these pictures instead.
