044-1

Have you ever looked at a fat person and secretly waited (with some guilt) for them to sit down on a chair and break it? I swear I'm not the only one.

At our polling station, one of the clerks at a booth across from mine waddled in this morning, sat down on his chair and flattened it. Everyone in the room tried hard not to laugh because obviously it was an election and elections are serious.

The lady to my right, however, chuckled for hours.

One man was upset with me because Stephen Harper wasn't on the ballot, and he didn't want to vote for 'the local guy'. And though I thought that he would be perfectly welcome to move to Stephen Harper's riding and leave me alone, I had to explain to him which party each of the candidates were affiliated with. Of course, this information was clearly written out on each ballot, but you can't expect every white, middle-aged middle-classed male to be able to read.

The lady at the booth to my left had a lovely scouse accent, and kept telling people that if they brought back the ballots folded correctly, they would get 10,000 air miles. One man actually began to get out his air miles card to see if he could get a credit on his account.

"You promise?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she replied, "It's an election promise."

At that, everyone in the immediate vicinity began to laugh.

I felt sorry for that lady later when she discovered that one of her ballots had walked during the day. For all I know, she could still be there looking for it.

One lady explained to me that her daughter's name was on the ballot and wanted an extra one as a souvenir. She couldn't seem to understand why I kept saying no.

And after what seemed like a constant stream of geriatric men dragged by mail order brides, bitchy pregnant ladies, men with incredibly cute children and puppies all arriving to vote, I went home to discover that we have elected a minority government dominated by the Conservatives. Damn.