When waiting to vote, your entertainment options are limited. You can imagine trashing campaign signs you disagree with by crushing them between your thumb and forefinger Kids in the Hall-style. You can get all nostalgic about the 2004 election by solely communicating in that awkward Howard Dean-scream.
Or you can cut about 200 people in line by hitting on two tattooed female MDC students in tight Tees and jeans, which is precisely what one man did yesterday while I was in line at Coral Reef Library on 152nd Street near Pinecrest.
Okay, okay so I accidentally caused the whole damn thing.
Not wanting to get out of a line I had been waiting in for almost two hours, and parched from the excruciating act of, uhm, standing, I asked a guy standing next to a cooler whether the water bottles were free.
“Yes,” he said as he brought me over three dewy bottles of Zephyrhills. He gave me one, and two more to the chicks in front of me. One of the pair asked: “Are you the ballot bartender?”
Silliness ensued as the water boy incorrectly interpreted amendments and reminisced about his days at Miami-Dade College…eight years ago.
After about 15 minutes of “Does blah and blah on the Kendall campus still teach political science?”, “I didn’t know they sold bongs at tattoo parlors”, and “I’m voting yes on this amendment because, I think, it’s trying to protect the rights of married individuals, which I’m not, by the way” a volunteer came over and asked me if Don Juan was with us.
“YEE-YOOOW!” I responded in my best Howard Dean impression (okay, I totally didn't, but I wish I had).
“Sure, I guess,” said one of the girls as waterboy butted in front of me.
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But I didn’t mind. I waited a bit, then got my revenge. After faux-H20 dude was inside, I pretended to take my thumb and forefinger and squashed his head.
Take that Amendment 2!