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voting is hard, I had a really hard time, and it didn’t need to be that hard. I mean, I think it is nobel for me to be in this much pain, but still working a full day and then driving 45 minutes to Simi Valley, then finding the library, in which I will explain a bit more later, right now Jen wants me to write about her. She says I don’t listen, but my voting story is so much better.

A little background, I have voted in Simi Valley in every election in my life. For the last 20 years the voting place was in a church building to the west of my mom’s house. (yes I went with my parents to vote before I turned 18. This year they had it over at the library. I had been going to that library before. That whole area. I was there when they let the police officers off for beating Rodny King. Well not at the exact time, we got board and when to a water hole to jump off rocks. I slammed dance there a few days later to Citizen Down. So this area had a bit of history to it. So every two years I try to make it back to Simi Valey on election day. I don’t always make it, but I try. I think the harder things are for me the harder I try.

Every time it seems to not only get harder, but weirder. Jen tells me about the voting people demanding her to take things out of her bag because she couldn’t have the pamphlet out. What no notes that might influence her decision? What horrible woman would say such things in America? I was a little surprised when I didn’t have to go through medal detectors to cast my vote. I really expected it.

The library is one of the first places I ever drove to. Being tiered at the end of a really long day, I was on reserve energy still knowing that I had a 45 minute drive still ahead of me, and a visit with my mother. It was cold and windy, I was in Simi Valley, which everyone knows that I have never been a fan of Simi Valley. Though 98% of my time in Simi Valley was miserable, 98% of 20 years still left some damn good days. A lot of those days were in the parking lot of that library. There was the court house there and the DMV, before you knew it everything was there, the library, DMV, Police Station, Court House, and it now the “Government Center” of Simi Valley. It is hard to take seriously a place you used to ride your dirt bike around.

There was a blend of nastalga for those good old days, confusion to where I am supposed to go, there were a lot of new buildings and bigger parking lots. I thought they had gone a little over board when they gated the library parking lot. Seriously, who is going to sneak into the the parking lot of the library? In Simi Valley? Jesus Christ it is right next to the police station. You would have to be a complete dult! Now that this library is gates and I don’t have a library card to get me in? What have we come to? This the kind of thing we have in our parking lots at work. I was wondering if this where Simi Valley’s generous grant from Homeland Security went to. What a waste. I figured that they could put some of that “God Bless America” money to some signs or lights to let me know where the voting booth is. I counted more than enough cones currently not being used. I saw a guy that looked at me, he apeard as confused as me. I felt better that I was not the only one lost in this mess. I saw him call in to the phone and could only imagine how annoyed the person on the other end must be with all these people calling needing to be lead in, but then I thought that there job was already no terribly hard, so if I could drag my ass all the way to Simi to vote the least that he could do is work a little harder this time of year. I thought this while waiting for him to say something to me. I thought maybe the door would close, but it didn’t. I thought that dorm room rules applied so I followed the fellow voter in the big truck, a truck you would expect to find in one of California’s last republican strongholds.

I parked the car, totally confused where to go. I seem to remember stairs, and that hte library was behind the court house. I was really cold and shivering. I took out my iPhone to post on Twitter, nervous that the guy I followed in and another guy were talking and looking at me. They split one coming to the right side of my car, the other at a 45 degree angle in front of me. “They are going to attack me.” I thought. It was that or they might think I know where to go. Needless to say, I was getting scared, and really there did seem to be a way where this would not be at the very least, awkward. The guy I followed in looked down at me and asked me to roll down the window. There was something familiar about this, but I couldn’t quite put my fingure on. Where have I seen this before? Crap, these guys are undercover cops. How did these guys know that I was going to vote Democrat? I changed to being a republican in 2006. I missed the election that November because of the imfamous Republican German car that I own sabotaged me when I was on my way to Simi Valley to vote Democrat for the first time. Damn Republicans. Now it has taken me far longer to describe this confused fear that I felt than it actually took. My mind was racing trying to make sense of what exactly was going on. When rolling down the window all of those were spinning my mind.

The man looked at me and asked me where I am going. I told him to Vote. He looked at me puzzled same with his friend. I told him that I am supposed to vote at the library and now the guy was just as confused as I was. His friend was standing down. He looked at me and said, this is the employee parking lot for the Simi Valley police department.

“Holly Crap” I thought. I am going to jail, for voting, and I deserve it.

The soon to be on duty but presently off duty police officer then told me that I had sneaked into the employee parking lot of the police station, then looked at me totally baffled to what would posses someone to do something like that, all the time obviously following another police officer. I think he knew that it was a mistake. I wanted to tell them the whole story, but I was kind of stunned. I think I came across as a nut job. I am impressed. Not at enduring so much pain, then fending off the embarrassment or threat of imprisonment for following a cop into a police station’s private gated parking lot. I am impressed I did not crap my pants in front of him. Driving out I did not know to laugh or cry, I was truly stunned.

For all the crap we give to police officers for the way they act when they are around us, in the end, they are pretty good guys that do very important work. I understand why they do they do, and I admire their tactics too. They knew that there was no way a criminal would sneak into a parking lot following a cop and then whip out his iPhone to Twit about it, but they could never be so sure.

Another great story from that place.