Mission Completed

At 6:30 the morning, before either of us had ventured to sleep, D and i braved the great unknown for no less than a noble cause. Ok so, it was only 2 buildings away, but still, it was outside of our studio! Neither of us were listed on the books. D completed a handwritten Affidavit since somehow they'd mysteriously received word that he had moved(!?) from his long time residence, As for me, i was flatly told nope can't vote, "Next!" Myffed, we returned home and called the 1800 election number found on the net to seek clarification. The heavily accented man told me my change-of-regristration was received late. I persisted, "So what do i do now?"

"You may see a judge and make your case for your situation."

-pause-

"Excuse me?"

"You may see a judge who will hear your situation and why you did not properly register and the then make a determination as to whether you may vote. Then he may issue a court order that you may take to your polling place which states you may continue there. Do you want to see a judge?"

"Uh, er, i, how do i do that?"

"Where do you live, ok, lets see, you need to go to City Hall and see Judge Smith....."

I hung up the phone and told D what happened. "Seems pretty complicated doesn't it? Why can't i just do an affidavit like you did?" Afterall, didn’t the brash, white haired elderly lady bark something about showing ID with my current address; ie: NY drivers license, passport, etc.

D unlocked the mini safe and produced my passport.

“It doesn’t have an address on it!’

“What the-?!”

“But that’s what she said, right?!

“Yeah, we both heard her, right?!”

“Worth a shot, considering I don’t even know where downtown is let alone City Hall. How would I even get there?”

(Not having a car is a HUGE adjustment and I must admit, a royal pain-in-the-ass. How do New Yorkers tolerate it?! It feels like such a tremendous loss of freedom.)

So, off I trotted, passport in hand. The now warm reception took me aback, the election worker greeted me enthusiastically and spoke over me as I attempted to inform her that I’d brought my passport. Without pause, she gushed, reaching back into her bag, “You can do an affidavit!“ as produced a large white envelope and handed it to me.

She didn’t even ask to see the passport. The passport that didn’t have my address on it anyway. But whatever, bottom line; I got to vote. I just hope other people are as equally persistent.