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The Oldsters Went to Seattle

The people at my polling place (which encompassed five precincts or so) were uniformly old and white-haired. I'd suspect them of doddering, but it's hard to tell when they stay seated. I can attest that the woman who handed me my ballot was losing her sight, because she mentioned it several times.

She wasn't very fast, but I blame the person ahead of me in line; after he found his proper precinct and got his ballot, he tried to pick up his girlfriend's too. No, she wasn't there. No, she wasn't registered. It didn't work out very well for him.


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