Trick or Vote

I went to volunteer with the Bus Project for Trick-or-Vote, thinking it was a good cause and would be fun. It's one thing when you go somewhere expecting fun and it falls short of your expectations; it's another when it's actively unpleasant.

I didn't come for a dark, noisy costume party. I didn't come for a pep rally, or a role-playing skit reminiscent of badly planned 7x8 plugs in the middle of the all school gathering. I didn't figure on walking up and down what must be the steepest hill in Eugene for two hours, or trying to keep sight of someone without a cell phone while talking to voters, and I definitely didn't want to be yelled at by a 96-year-old guy who doesn't want anyone, ever, to leave flyers on his doorstep, which actually I didn't even do.

I met a cool guy who goes to U of O and ate some candy, but between 2 and 7 p.m. those were the only nice things that happened to me. I definitely would have been better off sitting in the EMU writing my next women's studies paper.