Last week I was so focused on death and dying (and I've come close so many times that I am practically an expert), I forgot to mention that Polling Day was on the Thursday. Polling Day: the day when Europe went to vote on who would take over as European MPs-or, rather, MEPs (Members of European Parliament, I think-like I could care less).
What made it interesting for me wasn't just that the French voted in the right wingers (trust the French to do just that), but Brits did the same thing. That's a little scary. Come the revolution, I will be among the first to be shot...
All the parties had their representatives knocking on doors to make absolutely certain that anyone who was eligible to vote went to the polls. I think if dogs could vote, they would have been sent to the polls, too. So-I was walking back from the supermarket and noticed that someone was talking to my neighbor, Tom. Tom was standing there, can of beer in his hand (at 11am-can't say I blame him. Who wants to be jumped on by a politician's gofer at 11:00 in the morning?). And before I could turn around, the woman pounced. I do mean-pounced.
There she was, right in my face, wearing one of those really naff badges that said she was representing the Conservative Party. That is David Cameron's party-and everyone hates David Cameron. So I just looked at her as she said she was Emma, and just wanted to know that everyone was going to vote.
It wasn't just that she was right in my face-but she had a clipboard in her hand, and on the clipboard was a list of everyone in the area-including me. I found that an affront. I'm very private-and she really wasn't entitled to know who lived where. So she asked me if I live there, and I said I was just visiting (in my very best American drawl). Tom started to snicker in his beer, and she asked which apartment I was visiting. It was none of her business, but I'm polite, and I decided to have a little fun.
So I told her, and she asked whether the residents were voting. I said they were at the polling station even as I was speaking to her. Then she asked if I had voted. Oh, the silly woman!!
No, I said, I don't vote. I'm an alien. That was it-Tom was snorting into his beer. Then she asked for my name. I could barely keep a straight face, and Tom was sipping his beer and waiting for me to say-
Spock, I said, glancing at Tom (who is an avid-some would say obsessive-Star Trek fan), and he tried to choke back his laughter, and looked away. Spock? she asked. How do you spell that? S-p-o-c-k, I replied. Oh, she said, that is unusual. Where is that from?
It's Brazilian, I said. By now Tom was snorting-and I was trying very hard to keep a straight face. But, I added, my father is Armenian. And that did it: Tom was in hysterics-because this Emma didn't get it at all. She looked at him, and I said, don't take any notice. He's got-a "condition", in a loud whisper (which made him laugh harder). And, I added conspiratorially, he's on-tablets.
Well-she said, oh, poor man, and he sprinted for his door, laughing so hard he sounded like a cross between gargling and two animals rutting.
And Emma's colleague was coming toward us-so I figured, a speedy exit was needed. I wished her luck in the elections, and it occurred to me that she had a very familiar accent. Emma, where in Essex are you from? I asked. I knew. I just knew.
Braintree, she replied, how did you know I'm from Essex? (oh, Hell, how obvious can it be? SPOCK??? Really!). So I replied that I have friends who grew up in Chelmsford, so I know the accent (I was priding myself on being so full of crap-people will believe anything if you say it sincerely. And if they're from Essex).
We both said goodbye -and I said have a nice day, because I'm just such a prat sometimes. And I was glad the front door to the building locks, because Emma said goodbye, Mrs. Spock-I wish you could have seen her colleague's face. What a Kodak moment that was!!
That was the best day I've had in awhile. And now, when I see Tom outside, he looks at me and laughs. I so remember that day. Tom laughed so hard, I'm surprised he didn't rupture something.
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