Betting on the Turnout

When I arrived at my polling place this morning to do my civic duty and cast my ballot, I knew it was going to be a light turn-out. After all, it's just a primary. The parking lot was pretty deserted. I went in the building and all nine of the poll workers turned to see who was there. They needed something to do. The joint was empty.

There are two divisions in our precinct and I knew I was to vote in Section B. At the Section B table I handed over my license to the first older lady. It took her awhile to locate my name and she moved me on to the second stop at the table, where I signed my name in the little book. The third older lady was being assisted by a young man, I'm guessing high school aged. The third lady asked for my political party affiliation.

"I'm a Democrat," I responded.

Third older lady got poked in the ribs by the young high school man. She giggled (kind of girlishly I thought) and leaned over and whispered to him, "We're baaaaaad aren't we?"

I think they assumed I wasn't listening. For a long second I couldn't figure out what they were carrying on about. Did they have a date later? Were they playing footsies under the table?

Then it dawned on me. . .

"I expect that I'm what. . . maybe one of six Democrats you might actually encounter in the flesh today?"

His face flushed. He looked away, clearly embarrassed at being caught. He was quiet for a minute as he opened up the Democratic Registration Book and filled out my name and address.

"Well," he said, finally looking at me, "We have a bet that there will be less than ten. . ."

I watched him filling in my information and I couldn't help but smile too. There was only one other name in that Democratic Registration Book – one Ms. Ali W. . .

I should have asked what they were betting.