So I enter the voting station, right? Everything appears as normal as a voting station should be. I turn to my left and see a male and female sitting at the first table that's labelled, "Voters Roll." I knew not to dive onto the floor with outstretched arms and pointed fingers like we did in PE class in primary school, so ofcourse, I didn't. At my age, you tend to realize that everything in life's not THAT literal.
There I was. Staring at the first table. That's where I have to start. You-you figured that, huh? Okay...so I traipse on over there. I repeat, I didn't roll on over there, I traipsed. The young man says to me, a little more excited than IIIII thought he shoulda been but hey? As a South African? I'm well aware that we're all not the same. You say excited, I say....uhhhh....I say...hmmmmmmm?!? Excited?!
A-hem.
Bad examples aside...Besides, I'm not the boss of him. I was there to vote! Not be the judge of inexplicable heights of excitement. And I had a rough sinus night plus Cruz barked me awake at 3am. I'm still mad at him. "YOU'RE ALSO AN ORGAN DONOR!?"
There's a sticker in my I'd book, he's not psychic. So I smile despite my confusion, "Yes!"
He then asks, "So? Are therrrrre-are there any missing?"
Me, giggling, while instinctively feeling my stomach for missing organs, "Noooooh, no, not yet!"
The female rules out my name, evesdropper that she is, and then says, "I'm just asking for asking sake okay, not to make you frightened or anything. But aren't you scared that they'll finish you?"
I really do try my utmost not to use my frown lines as often as I used to but it wasn't easy today. I immediately think, "Where the ?!*#@?! hell am I?" By now I'm looking around, trying to spot anyone who resembles the them that she's referring to. I had no idea what it was that I'd do when I found them, maybe run and scream. Scream, point and run. Scream, point, run and yell, "They wanna finisssssssssh me?!?" I dunno.
But then I respond, nonchalantly. I was acting. Brave. "Ay, it won't matter when I'm dead."
As if I hadn't already been through enough? Female clarifies, "No, I mean if you're critically sick or something? Aren't you scared that they'll finish you off just to take your organs?"
Ya Rambler busts out, "BWAAAAAAAAHAHAHAAHHAHAHHAHHA!!!!!!" while thinking and praying, "LORD HAVE MERCY ON MY ORGANS! Well? At least I know I'm in South Africa!"
I then move onto the next table that's labelled, "Inking". I was tempted to tell the woman where I wanted the peace sign and the music sign and the happy face and the little heart tattood but after my first table experience? I changed my mind. Voting stations can be volatile places and I was already not that comfortable. Eh! I start asking for peace, love, happiness and music tattoos at the inking table and next thing I know I'm arrested for being a rebel terrorist just so that they can remove my organs. No, thank you very much. I have work tomorrow!
So then I move onto the third table and the woman gives me my ballots and goes onto explain that "this one is provincial and this one is national" and then says, "I like your style!"
Now see? See that?
I could have exposed my panic then and there but I'm not stupid. That's what they wanted. To break me into a panic-stricken voter and then steal my organs! I had to listen to the voice inside my head that whispered, "Just. Act. Normal." So, I quickly say, "Thank you," with a broad smile. Yesssssssss, okay, YES, I meant, nervous smile but that's only because I do understand that in my state of mind, I coulda very well confused it for, "I like your spleen."
At the end of it though? I'm happy to report that once I'd reached that cardboard thingy that we have to hide behind and place our X where we want it? Once I reached that leg of my voting journey and realized that there was nobody there waiting to gut me like a guppy for my large intestine? It went pretty smoothly after that. Nobody tried to finish me. Maybe 'cause I wasn't critically ill. :-/ I'll never know.
All I know is this! When he was THAT happy to see that I was an organ donor and then asked if I had any missing? He coulda been using code for "Seize her! We could use a kidney at the table labelled, 'Cut her!'" LOL! No, no, I'm just kidding. There was no table labelled, "Cut her!" But lemme tell you something....I did keep an eye out for it after that female started talking about them "finishing me." You'd be wary too, wouldn't you?
So? Do they mark parts of your body when you vote? In your country? Do they remove an organ maybe? Heyyyyyyyy! Don't judge. I'm just trying to see whether it will become voting protocol in the future.
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!
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