Election Day

I ran out of the house so quickly this morning that I forgot to vote.  Election Day is important in my clan. Being a member of this family means you’re either into politics, or you watch mutely as the dinnertime shouting match rages over you. Either way – whether you’ve voted or not – you’ll end up on a phone call, reenacting one of the family’s most over-told stories.

My great-grandfather, Tony Bologna (that’s Ba-low-nya, not the sandwich meat, chumps) was at work, and one of his coworkers was asking him if he’d voted yet. This works better told, not written, so do me a favor and imagine this in a nice, thick, stereotypical Italian accent. It’ll help.

Coworker: Hey, Tony! You wote?
Tony:
Yeah, I wote.
(later)
Coworker: You wote today, Tony?
Tony:
I wote! I wote!
(later)
Coworker: Tony, you wote, yet?
Tony:
I wote every time-a you ask me, he win for sure.

Election Day, people. Rock the wote.

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