I stood by the kerb quietly contemplating the short walk down to the Community Centre. On any normal day this would be easy and uneventful, but as it was Election Day, I expected the walk to be particularly annoying. Both sides of the path were flanked by colourful sandwich boards displaying the faces of the local candidates and the parties they supported, creating potential trip hazards if a speedy get-away was required. I wasn’t looking forward to the stroll, but it was my nearest polling booth and I had forgotten to vote in the pre-poll or organise a postal vote.

I took a deep breath and hesitantly stepped onto the path to be instantly greeted by eager candidate supporters thrusting ‘how to vote’ pamphlets into my hands. I took each one gracefully, keeping silent to avoid any conversation. I thought I was managing this well until I was accosted by a close neighbour, dressed in a brightly coloured tee shirt printed with the picture of the candidate he was volunteering for. 

“Hi. Great to see you here on such a fine day,” he began, offering me one of his pamphlets. “We are having a celebratory party at my place tonight,” he continued confidently. “You are welcome to join us.” I smiled a smile that I hoped didn’t suggest I would be at all interested attending and proceeded to join the queue at the main entrance.  Damn, I thought, the last thing I need is a rowdy party tonight that may last into the wee hours of the morning regardless of the outcome of the election.  Luckily there was no one I knew in the queue. 

The tantalising aroma of sausages and onions being barbequed filled the air, enticing me to believe it was nearly lunchtime, which it actually wasn’t. I made a mental note to check it and the local school fundraising cake stall before heading home. As the queue inched forward, I could see a crowd collecting in the park.  It appeared to be one of the candidates surrounded by a dozen or so supporters. I made another mental note to avoid it at all costs.

Suddenly at the head of the queue I was ushered inside. I made another mental note to avoid such a busy time of the day for the next election. Soon I was being crossed off the electoral roll by a grumpy middle-aged lady who thrust the ballot papers into my hands and pointed to the booths. Obviously, she wasn’t having a good day. Perhaps an early start?

It was only as I was marking my preferred candidates as a dutiful member of society, I remembered I had arranged to meet my bestie for coffee afterwards. The actual voting didn’t take much thought as I’d already decided weeks before. I hurried it up, placed the papers in the ballot boxes and scurried outside to see if my bestie had arrived yet. She hadn’t. While waiting I handed all the ‘how to vote’ pamphlets back to each volunteer as a silent protest about the paper wastage.

I heard a familiar voice behind me.  “All done?”

“Yep. You?” I replied, turning around to greet her.

“I voted a few days ago. Coffee?”

“Smart choice voting early. Coffee? I thought you’d never ask.”

Then as we started heading towards the coffee shops in the street, I suddenly remembered something and stopped. “Wait. We’ve got to get a sausage sandwich first,” I said pointing in the direction of the barbeque, “and perhaps a couple of cupcakes.”

Before long we were sitting on a bench in the sunny park eating our sausage sandwiches and sipping our coffees.

“Guess what,” I began as I took my last bite, “I was invited to a celebratory party tonight at one of my neighbours’ places.”

“You going?”

“Gosh no. Tonight I am going to curl up on my sofa with the cat and a glass of wine watching a movie, occasionally flipping over to see the election results.”

“Yeh. Me too…minus the cat.”