Delegation, Part 5

(Start with Part 1, most recent is Part 4)

It was no surprise when I finally walked up and found everyone else from my precinct sitting bored waiting for me to arrive. A small cheer erupted as I proudly displayed my substitute credentials papers and picked an empty seat at the top of our section. My legs wept for joy as I'd finally relieved them of their locomotive duties after so long; my stomach grumbled.

Despite the rules committees not being prepared for two hundred, much less two thousand, apparently the seating committee was planning for a full crowd of twenty thousand, and many precincts were seated up in the nosebleed section.

There were still a few unfortunate souls trying to prove themselves down in hell credentials, so we couldn't do much else but mingle. At this point I started evaluating disaster scenarios. Would there be other difficulties with my attendance? I didn't want to provide any basis for a challenge based on the stupid rules that these people had established. I looked down at the blue paper tied around my neck.

Credentials: Precinct Chair Copy

"Damnit!" I'd torn and given the wrong sheet of paper to the precinct chair when I walked up. The flimsy twine dangled carelessly as I pulled the slip from around my neck and attempted to remove the permanent knot. "What next?" I thought to myself as I poked a hole through my copy of the credentials with a cheap Bic pen and re-threaded the twine.

"Can I have your attention please?" a high-pitched woman's voice echoed throughout the stadium. I glanced down to the floor where I could see a pink blur, somewhat in the shape of a female, standing on an elevated podium. "I would like to announce that the long line for the credentials table has finally been cleared, and all delegates are now validated." The statement resulted in an eruption of cheering, hooting, and hollering.

Finally we're getting somewhere.

"We still have a bit of work to do in the credentials committee before we can get to business, but since everyone is here we are going to start with our guest speakers."

Better than nothing, I suppose ...

For the next hour we were subjected to the ramblings of various politicians, either talking about how they got elected or, in most cases, how they were going to be elected in November. Another recurring theme was the circle-jerk of Democrat promotion, supported by the impression that all of the people present were there to support the party, where in reality 95% of those people were there to support a nominee. Yes, you fools are going to benefit in November because of the backlash straight-party ticket voting this year, but other than that nothing of what you say is particularly relevant to my current situation.

I walked up to my precinct chair and asked how much longer it'd be before we voted. "Oh, it'll probably be at least four o'clock, maybe five or six at this rate." We were originally told we'd be done by noon, one at the latest.

"Do you think they'll move the voting up, since that's what most people are here for?"

"Maybe, but I wouldn't count on it." Thus ended any hopes I had of catching up to my wife at the birthday party.

Elenor, an elderly women who required the use of a walker to get around, spoke to me as I started back to my chair. "Have you never been to one of these things before? Where were you in 2004?" she quipped in an unfriendly tone.

I was at home, bitch, enjoying my Saturday with a margarita by the pool waiting for the general election since John Ketsup had already won the damn nomination.

"Now Elenor that's not necessary." responded the precinct chair with whom I'd been conversing prior. I returned to my seat to phone my wife and deliver the news. My stomach yelled.

I did briefly consider visiting the food vendors and satiating my belly, but one look down that hallway forced my change of plans. My belly remained frustrated, but my legs told me that I'd made the right call.

At around 2:00 we were beckoned to move down to closer (e.g. on the floor) seats by our precinct secretary. A few of our membership had vertigo and couldn't join us up above, and it was obvious there were plenty of seats available down below. I helped Elenor descend slowly down the steep staircase, passed the morbidly obese woman who was sitting on the stairs because she "couldn't fit" into any of the chairs. My thighs stung with muscle pain as I slumped into my new chair.

It wasn't but a few minutes later that we heard over the microphone, "Ladies and gentlemen, the credentials committee has finished and we are now ready to begin this convention!"

My stomach cried.

(continued ...)