The place was practically vacant, the voter poll workers running the operation smooth and peaceful. There were no lines. Face coverings were required for entry, of course, and my bandana was tied tight. Appropriately dressed for a cold, rainy, north Texas day. The kind that wakes you up, the kind that makes you take note, the kind you feel in your bones for the first time after a long, hot summer.
With a flash of my valid Drivers License and a signature on a sticker, I was handed an empty ballot, given a Qtip to make my selections, and invited to choose any voting booth. They were all open, roughly a dozen. I thanked the worker, quickly picked a booth target, and headed back behind the registration area, where the actual voting went down. Everyone was helpful and nice, smiles evident through the masks. The atmosphere was rather quiet and pleasant.
Had long ago given up on the original 20/20 Gonzo plan of not voting, the journalistic instinct of impartiality is still strong, but voting is voting, damnit! I vote. And me and my Qtip did just that, including weighing in on removing a city council person. Didn't know much about it, seemed odd, had never seen that in all my years of voting, to actually kick someone out of office, or not. It was probably due to some sort of sorted mess, some sort of discontent, some sort of city hall feud, the dirtiest kind of all.