We went to our usual polling place. Thank goodness I had checked my voter registration card when it came, so that I was sure that it hadn't changed. They informed me that they didn't have my street. They looked all through their book, and they *still* didn't have my street. So we bypassed the initial sorting table and just went to the same set of booths that we've always used in the past.
What if someone on my street hasn't voted before? Will they give up? Likely.
At the first of two tables in our corridor, they informed us that they didn't have our street. Again. Go try somewhere else. But Hubby, he with the good memory, had simply gone to the girl with the sign-in book and found his name. So *we* knew already that they were wrong.
No, we had no actual trouble. Other than the fact that the volunteers were incredibly slow as well as uninformed. They were more interested in talking than in getting people through.
But then, we don't have lines.