Delegation, Part 3

(Start with Part 1, most recent is Part 2)

A large mass of people oozed from the entrance to the coliseum, filling out to the edge of the street. Makeshift signs with four-digit numbers hovered above the crowd, held aloft by tired arms. A select few of these displays looked professionally made, as if the owners had known what to expect. The rest were scrawled on notebook paper, cardboard, spiral notebook backing, or whatever else would hold marker ink.

"So, where is our precinct?" I asked as I scanned the pages above the heads.

"Well, there's 2107, we're probably pretty close to them." Our coordinator, P, pointed out a waving sheet of yellow notebook paper on which the digits 2107 were scribbled. We navigated around a T-shirt booth and began to wedge ourselves into the crowd.

Thus began the standing and waiting. It turns out that we were actually being "organized" by precinct groups, listed on large signs taped to the columns of the entry. It was difficult to see these signs, however, since they were attached at eye-level. It also didn't help that they were trying to stick to plaster using packing and masking tape and the signs were continually falling.

A mosquito landed on my arm an instant before its life ended. "Now I know why they wanted to start so early," I quipped. "In a couple of hours the mosquitoes will be feasting on us."

The blob slowly progressed towards the doors. The movement wasn't really noticeable, but every so often I'd look up and the trees would be in a different place. Over an hour passed, and aside from some parallax against the distant scenery, nothing changed.

"Hey guys, move on up here," I heard P shout as she finally motioned us forward. The remaining 6 of us wove ourselves through the mosh pit and up to the pillars where the registration tables were established.

"Name and precinct?" a burly man in a navy windbreaker asked as I approached. I handed over my identification and waited while he sorted through a file of blue papers.

"You're not in here," he finally resolved as he finished looking through the papers a second time. "Are you an alternate?"

"No, I am a delegate, I should be in there."

"Well in that case, you're going to need to go to credentials."

"Credentials?"

(continued ...)