Back with the Catholics

My polling place was upgraded, I guess.

Instead of the Baptist church a couple of blocks south of my home, with the bumpy tables and the crumbling sidewalk, I go now to the fancy Catholic one to the north, with its big, smooth parking lot (shared with Hallmark), flat sidewalks and sharp pencils. And now I have white judges. I only recognized one man from my old spot; maybe the others just finally got too old. I miss the guy who used to monitor the ballot and give me my "I voted" sticker, though.

Of course, I didn't know you could park in Hallmark's land (this sign does not help those who park before they see it, and this is that weird stretch of Gillham where there's a hill and several intuitive merges) and so I walked around the block before it was all said and done.