Historias de la Gran Patranha

To celebrate this day, 1st of May, I've just had a job interview, and, in the most democratic of fashions, it has been voting day too... Nevertheless, I can only be dismayed at the silliness of the system here. We were sent voting cards (or whatever is the name) weeks ago to our home address. To vote, we just had to take those with us, no ID, no nothing... So I voted, and given the two only options which I was given (dammned if I did, dammned if I didn't), I went ahead and gave my card, not even my name, not a single question on whether the person on the card was me or my designated proxy... no need for a photo ID, what for anyway? I could have been voting with my boyfriend's card and given him the nasty news that he had voted left wing! Anyhooo, much in my fashion, I did not have a pen and expected to find one in the polling booth... nope, there was a PENCIL! so there, my vote has been cast in fracking pencil. And at the exit, some cheerful men with blue and yellow colour asked me for my voting card, as they had to keep it... what?? He asked wheter they were intimidating, and I said, no, you are not, the six crosses I have just put in pencil are...
So... I have done my duty but I want my money back; I want choice, I want to vote in pen, not in pencil, and I want to demonstrate that it is me voting with a photo ID, in case my cousing from Mozambique decided to vote for the BNP in my name... Not that this would ever happen, but hey... Happy worker's day, bah humbug.