Thumbs up to all voters!

Ally and I have voted together for the last couple of elections because we vote at the same spot. So this year, we agreed to meet at 7 at Vida for a takeaway latte and walk up to Laerskool Jan van Riebeeck. Voting stations opened at 7am so we thought we’d get there, get in, make our marks and be out of there in about 30 min!

So I woke up in the dark and debated whether to have a shower or just pull on my clothes there and then. Hey, I would have voted in my pjs if I could’ve. Propriety won and after my shower, I had a pre-election cuppa on my balcony. (Even though a cup of Vida was minutes away, two caffeine shots in 20mins, you can’t go wrong. In fact, we’re you’re the furthest thing from a morning person, it’s the only way to become remotely intelligible.) (PS Just ‘cos I’m taking photos doesn’t mean I’m awake.)

Then I scurried out the door, plugged in my sound and skipped down Kloof Street on my way to the best coffee in the world. As I past the primary school, I saw Ally waving at me from the queue. Schizer. Vida’s still closed. What was worse, it was 07h05 and the queue was easily 80 people long. Nuts! Everyone seemed to be in a pretty festive mood though, and it’s kinda contagious. We might be voting differently but we’re all there to vote and it felt good.

Ally and I caught up. Chatted about politics (she’s in the know as journalist for the Cape Times) (this is something I try not to do, I’m just not interested but I can get into on voting day), her 10-days-away wedding and other girly stuff. At 07h30, we’d shuffled a few meters forward and I tripped down to Vida again for our fix. Shitnuts! Still closed. Back up the hill. Sigh.

Then we got to talking to the couple standing behind us. They couldn’t stop kissing each other, which made me nauseous. (I’m not really into PDAs, other than holding hands and a greeting kiss.) The subject: a 21-month-old called Liam. The mother was doing her best look-at-me-I’m-a-cool-mom-and-my-adorable-son impression for the crowd. Adorable he was not. What gave it away? It had a mullet and no shoes. It shrieked and took great delight in throwing its soft toy at people in the line. Over-indulged brat. Every time it looked at me I glared and hissed. (Okay, I didn’t hiss out loud, the mom was much bigger than me.)

Half an hour later I was back at Vida, in another long queue that almost had me standing in their toilet. (I completely believe they missed a whopping sales opportunity here. Not only were they not open early, but they also had a captive audience, barely moving. They could have made thousands!)

Over 2 hours later and a cup of coffee down (one more and I would have needed to wazz) we were at least in the building. By now the brat was tired and acted out a clearly tried-and-tested routine that involved it: lying down on the floor, in a straight line, checking to see who was watching and then letting out a piercing scream. Mom or dad would pick it up, only to be kicked to be let down and it would start all over again.

All too soon, it was over. I’d made my X on two ballot sheets. Dropped them in the boxes. Waited for Ally and we were on our way. By now the queue was almost to end of the block. I felt sorry for the people standing at the end. But hey, I also felt sorry for myself when my alarm went off at 6am.

Today I’ve been checking out my colleagues’ left thumb for the mark of the voter. I’m horrified when people say they didn’t vote. I’m proud that I did and I’m crossing my fingers that the results will be, well, favourable. So far, so good!