Long post with lots of background info, so you can fully appreciate the "whomp" of the stupid when it hits you. I still feel homicidally angry every time I think about this.
This was several years ago. Some organization or another decided it would be a great idea to recruit tech-savvy college students to work elections. In my area, they were testing out a new on-site computer database, in which you could look up every registered voter in the metro area by any criteria from DOB to address, and find out where they were supposed to be voting, whether they were allowed to vote, etc. I was really more lured by the paycheck resultant from a 13-hour shift than anything.
In addition to the database, we were using tabulators - ungainly machines that resemble photocopiers. For those unfamiliar with them, you fill in the bubbles on your ballot sheet and feed it into the machine, and the machine counts the votes for each candidate or proposal so there's a tally at the end of the night.
Rather oddly, we were housing two adjacent precincts in one very large room (most precincts have their own locations). This meant twice as much work for me, sorting out which assembly line to send voters towards. It also meant we had two of everything - including two tabulators, which shall become important.
The race for <political position> was particularly heated that year - the incumbent had made things really bad while in office, but the other candidate was completely inexperienced in politics. Every election worker had had the importance of each and every vote being accurately counted drilled into their heads.
At the end of the night, we started signing payroll sheets, zipping and locking important bits of paper and equipment into boxes and bags - all the items on a checklist about four pages long. We were almost done when the head election worker from the other precinct walked over and said "We have a write-in vote, and it's not in the write-in tray."
The tabulators are designed to kick ballots with write-in votes into a separate tray from the normal fill-in-the-bubble votes. The machine had failed to do so, meaning we had to flip through several reams of paper (something like a 3-foot stack) manually to find the write-in vote.
Keep in mind we've already put in 13 hours with a brief lunch break. We want to go home. We don't really have to go help the other precinct, but our "boss" tells us to go do so. My ride is waiting outside.
We spend a good 40 minutes flipping through ballots and I finally find the write-in vote. The name was one much more familiar to me than that of either legitimate candidate - in fact, you, dear reader, are probably well-acquainted with the cartoon mouse in question.
Yeah, that's right, I just spent 40 minutes at minimum wage flipping through piles of paper because some asshat who should have stayed home thought s/he'd be funny and write the name of a Disney character on their ballot. But that's not all!
I started waving my lucky find in the air like a Golden Ticket, and told the other precinct's leader that I'd found the write-in vote. She solemnly examined the scrawled wittery on the ballot and pronounced that it was not the ballot we were looking for, because it was an invalid vote. Therefore, the ballot we sought was still in the un-sorted reams.
Wait, what? I patiently explained to her that the machine could not read, and that it only scanned the filled-in bubbles next to the words. Therefore, it could not know whether the vote was valid, because tabulators are not programmed to detect the names of fictional characters.
She still insisted that we must look at every last piece of paper from that particular machine, and find the write-in vote. It was at this point that I added an hour to my total on the payroll sheet, donned my backpack, and went home to bed. It must have been a fun night for the rest of them. And if you ever wondered why it takes forever for all the precincts to "come in" for election results, now you know.
This was several years ago. Some organization or another decided it would be a great idea to recruit tech-savvy college students to work elections. In my area, they were testing out a new on-site computer database, in which you could look up every registered voter in the metro area by any criteria from DOB to address, and find out where they were supposed to be voting, whether they were allowed to vote, etc. I was really more lured by the paycheck resultant from a 13-hour shift than anything.
In addition to the database, we were using tabulators - ungainly machines that resemble photocopiers. For those unfamiliar with them, you fill in the bubbles on your ballot sheet and feed it into the machine, and the machine counts the votes for each candidate or proposal so there's a tally at the end of the night.
Rather oddly, we were housing two adjacent precincts in one very large room (most precincts have their own locations). This meant twice as much work for me, sorting out which assembly line to send voters towards. It also meant we had two of everything - including two tabulators, which shall become important.
The race for <political position> was particularly heated that year - the incumbent had made things really bad while in office, but the other candidate was completely inexperienced in politics. Every election worker had had the importance of each and every vote being accurately counted drilled into their heads.
At the end of the night, we started signing payroll sheets, zipping and locking important bits of paper and equipment into boxes and bags - all the items on a checklist about four pages long. We were almost done when the head election worker from the other precinct walked over and said "We have a write-in vote, and it's not in the write-in tray."
The tabulators are designed to kick ballots with write-in votes into a separate tray from the normal fill-in-the-bubble votes. The machine had failed to do so, meaning we had to flip through several reams of paper (something like a 3-foot stack) manually to find the write-in vote.
Keep in mind we've already put in 13 hours with a brief lunch break. We want to go home. We don't really have to go help the other precinct, but our "boss" tells us to go do so. My ride is waiting outside.
We spend a good 40 minutes flipping through ballots and I finally find the write-in vote. The name was one much more familiar to me than that of either legitimate candidate - in fact, you, dear reader, are probably well-acquainted with the cartoon mouse in question.
Yeah, that's right, I just spent 40 minutes at minimum wage flipping through piles of paper because some asshat who should have stayed home thought s/he'd be funny and write the name of a Disney character on their ballot. But that's not all!
I started waving my lucky find in the air like a Golden Ticket, and told the other precinct's leader that I'd found the write-in vote. She solemnly examined the scrawled wittery on the ballot and pronounced that it was not the ballot we were looking for, because it was an invalid vote. Therefore, the ballot we sought was still in the un-sorted reams.
Wait, what? I patiently explained to her that the machine could not read, and that it only scanned the filled-in bubbles next to the words. Therefore, it could not know whether the vote was valid, because tabulators are not programmed to detect the names of fictional characters.She still insisted that we must look at every last piece of paper from that particular machine, and find the write-in vote. It was at this point that I added an hour to my total on the payroll sheet, donned my backpack, and went home to bed. It must have been a fun night for the rest of them. And if you ever wondered why it takes forever for all the precincts to "come in" for election results, now you know.

I write, my friend Red draws. Comments welcome. Leave them on their, or on my profile here.
I don't think votes for him are counted though.. It's same if left blank.
And I've never lived anywhere that had a local party candidate.
And given recent events, proposal 4 would probably be a good idea...
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