I Eat All the Pies: May 2005 Archives

Petersfield Constituency, Cambridge

Fat, black, soft-leaded pencils were provided, and it was all over in seconds; stab at democracy achieved (Mister D, I reckon I'm definitely homophoric). I didn't vote as I'm generally inclined to do, and while I felt a momentary stab of regret about my choosing not to, it was a conscious decision borne of my own unwillingness to compromise. Strategic voting isn't my thing; voting with my heart, is. As the recent cover of the Economist resignedly highlighted, our choices are nothing to be proud of.

On my way out of the polling station, I nipped ahead of a flustered looking woman with a double-wide pushchair in order to hold the swinging door open for her. As she thanked her way past me, I saw her two tiny babies, and knew in that second that they were spitting images of their father, and definitely boys. I grinned and quipped,

"That'll be their first election then!"

Setting her hair with her fingertips, she punctuated her broad smile with a giggle, and offered,

"I suppose so, and hopefully the first of many."

While my expression remained kind, I experienced a confusingly visceral wave of sorrow; I'm not interested in analysing it publicly, but it was disquieting, and I'm rarely phased by anything. Ah well, it's done, and as the sectarians are wont to say, "God help us."