It happened again. I woke up this morning, filled with the sense of wildly inflated self-import that comes from voting in a historic election in a hotly contested swing state. At around 9:20 a.m., I leisurely walked across the street to my polling place, the Denver Public Schools administration building on Grant Street, and… nothing happened. There was no line, no screaming protestors, no hanging chads, no malfunctioning computers, nothing. Just a handful of people quietly doing their civic duty and moving on with their day. It took me less than fifteen minutes to get my ballot, pencil in the lines and slap a sticker on my chest.
This is my third swing state. I voted in Florida in the 2004 Bush/Kerry disaster, and I voted twice in Ohio -- the Swinger to End All Swing States -- including this spring’s much-watched Democratic primary. And never, in all those years, have I encountered a problem. Or even a long line. And I’m a reporter, folks. This deathly boring string of events is not good for business.
All I can hope for is this: Maybe I’m some kind of good-luck charm. Maybe the elections divisions in swing states see me coming and decide to straighten up their acts. Or maybe I just keep getting assigned the wrong polling places. Who knows. But here’s hoping that every other voter in Denver has as boring a day as I did. -- Lisa Rab