Sigh.
That’s the feeling of relief after voting.
The husband and I voted early at the Johnson County Courthouse last week. There was no wait as we entered the lower level entrance.
When the metal detector buzzed, the nice Johnson County sheriff’s deputy immediately knew it was the metal buckles on my leather, calf-high zip-up boots and motioned my fashionable self through.
I thanked him and turned the corner right toward the five-person line waiting to check-in. I heard the buzzer go off behind me and half-heartedly wondered what the guy behind m e had in his pockets — knowing that my husband was wearing tennis shoes without any fancy metal buckles.
I didn’t hear the entire conversation, but I did hear:
Deputy: “Sir, do you have any change in your pockets?”
Husband: “No, sir.” (Because he always gives his change to me and carries his identification and debit card bound safely with a rubber band.)
I didn’t actually see what was happening, but having been married to this guy for over 27 years — 9,915 days to be exact, but who’s counting — I knew he was double-checking his pockets to make sure he didn’t miss anything.
Which is probably about the time he pulled out an extra Tul pen (his favorite) and probably an index card with the week’s to-do list on it and a handful of other odds and ends, which he dropped into the contents bowl that doesn’t go through the metal detector.
Deputy, as he looked at the new contents: “Uh, maybe it’s that pocket knife. This is the moment my husband apologized for forgetting his favorite and often-used tool was in its usual place.
Understandingly the deputy noted in some kind of bro-code: “I’ll just keep it here until you finish voting.”
When the husband came around the corner, being the supportive wife that I am, I said something encouraging like: “Nice one, Mangas.”
With only a few people ahead of us, we got checked in and voted in about seven minutes flat.
Voting early was a breeze — just remember to leave your tools in the car.
