Through a Glass, Darkly

(AKA why I can’t go places.)

This one was my fault for stirring up trouble.

POLL WORKER: Remember, in 2016 you will need your ID to vote.

KARI: And how do you feel about that?

POLL WORKER: I’m not allowed to say. I can’t talk about it. We’re not allowed to talk about it. But if I see you at the grocery store you can ask me.

KARI: Well, maybe we will make some changes before then.

POLL WORKER: I’m not allowed to talk about it. Ask me at the grocery store.

I did not ask her where she shops, but now I wish I had.

—

This one was not my fault in any way, shape, or form.

GUY STANDING OUTSIDE HOLDING A SIGN: Thanks for voting! Does your shirt say Let’s Be Still?

KARI: Yes.

GUY STANDING OUTSIDE HOLDING A SIGN: Is that like, be still and know that I am God?

KARI: No. It’s a song.

GUY STANDING OUTSIDE HOLDING A SIGN: Oh, I thought it was from the Bible.

Good thing I hadn’t voted for the person on his sign, because I would have had to go back in and demand my vote be changed because of awkwardness.