Today, I tried again, to get an absentee ballot.
Background: Barricades and heavily guarded American Embassy.
Scene: A young, fearful girl advances through the many gates and guards, flashes her passport and arrives at a door she knows well.
Guard (in French)-Aren't you the girl who came yesterday?
Dorothy (in French with a tremble in her throat)-Yes, I'd like to get myself registered for voting please.
Guard (in French, rolls his eyes and acts generally exasperated)- I TOLD you we'd close early on Friday
Guard (repeats in English)- I TOLD you we'd close early on Friday
Camera closes on the door slamming in the dejected young girl's face. She walks back to her office trying not to cry.
Let me explain a few things Mr. Mean Guard:
1. You know I speak French as well as any French person out there. You do not need to repeat yourself in English.
2. I came three times and three times you were rude to me. Is your job of sitting in the air-conditioned office in a nice uniform so busy that you cannot extend the same politeness to me that I showed you?
3. You're an asshole. I want my ballot. It's my God-given duty to vote against Bush. If you were smart, you'd appreciate what I am doing and realize that my determination to vote is a good thing. Too many people don't have that option.
4. I clearly remember, you DID NOT tell me you were closed early on Friday. Let me say that in French in case you didn't quite get it: vous ne m'aviez JAMAIS dit que vous fermiez tot le Vendredi. Merde enfin.
Well, that's what I would have told him anyhow if I wasn't ready to cry. I am now working on getting my ballot sent by mail. Oh, and my friend assures me that absentee ballots aren't even counted. Screw you, Voting System.