"There is no reason to not vote"

This week I heard someone on the radio say "There is no reason to not vote" and it reminded me of an experience I had nearly 4 years ago which I would like to share with you:

Election Day 2004. By the time I got to work in the morning I was feeling nauseous. I ate some wheat bread with butter and drank an orange soda (breakfast of champions!). It didn’t make me feel any better. I kept hoping it wasn’t the flu but by about 3:30pm I knew it was and that it was time to get going. I didn’t want to spend the money on a cab so I left work and walked to the subway. I was praying for no delays but, of course, I had no control over the subway schedule. The train stopped for a few minutes between Charles and Kendall and I was getting nervous and wanting to get to Alewife (the end of the line) soon. We finally got to Kendall and there was a delay that seemed like an hour. I was feeling less and less confident that I was going to make it to the end of the line without incident. Between Kendall and Central I started to feel very sick and knew I was going to vomit. There were two women sitting across from each other next to the subway doors--talking and laughing. I was so uncomfortable and couldn’t sit any longer so I got up and walked over to the door. I couldn’t hold it any longer and a few seconds before the door opened I barfed!!! One of the laughing women, who I am sure got barf on her, said, “Do you want a kleenex?” A kleenex?! Are you kidding me? What was I going to do with a kleenex??? I wanted 4 towels and a big barf bag. The subway door opened and I stepped out, humiliated and hanging my head. I didn't feel any better and was sure there was barf all over me. And then I saw it. The big round grimy subway trash can. I went right over to it like it was a long lost friend, grabbed hold of it, and continued to hurl repeatedly into it. When I was done, I stood up. I was so sick. Now what do I do? Run? Cry? Look for a mop? Find a payphone and call a friend? All I wanted was to be home in the privacy of my own bathroom (where people should be when they are barfing their guts out). I noticed the last person on the platform, walking towards me; the woman walked right by me and didn’t acknowledge my existence. Then I saw the toll booth. I walked over to it, knocked on the window, and I asked the worker for a kleenex. What's up with the kleenex?! How was a kleenex going to help me? It just so happens that Mr. token taker in the toll booth had one in his pocket. I think it had been there for 12 years. I told him never mind and then he offered me a roll of brown paper towels and a spray bottle of water. I wasn't sure how that was going to help me either. He ripped off some towels, sprayed them and handed them to me. I thanked him and started to clean up but I just spread everything around more and made a bigger mess. While trying to clean things up (barf was even on my shoes!) I realized I just needed to get home (Dorothy was right; there's no place like home). I didn’t think I was going to vomit again (I felt like I had nothing left to lose) but I knew I was a mess. Then I started to sweat. I took off my coat and folded it up (so the vomit was on the inside) and waited patiently for the next train. By this point, I was feeling pretty weak so when I got on the train I stood against the door--and avoided eye contact with anyone. I wanted to be invisible and I wanted an express train to Alewife (which doesn't exist). After a few stops I turned and happened to catch the eye of a guy across from me. He was motioning that there was a seat. I put my arm up and though it may have looked like a little wave, I was really just motioning as if to say, “no thank you”. Then I looked down and noticed I had barf on the sleeve of my pretty maroon sweater which confirmed it was my Most Embarrassing Moment ever. The subway finally arrived at Alewife and I made my way to my car and somehow had the strength to drive the few miles home. I practically crawled up the dozen front steps and into my apartment. I called my friend, Sister. She sympathized with me and offered to drive me to the voting booth. I still remember what I said to her: “Sister, I am so sick. I can’t even stand up. I can’t vote.”

So that is one reason to not vote but it better not happen to me again next Tuesday!