Here's where I burst into Lee Greenwood:
Whoa. Didn't expect *that*. So I stroll into my neighborhood polling place, ballot book in hand, ready to take on the awesome responsibility of plunking the little inky thing into the little hole and changing the course of history.
What do I get?
Weapons-grade cuteness, in the form of a green-eyed, jet-black-haired, well-tatted devildoll with the name book in front of her. She has two clovers on her forearms and a pretty little nosering. Brittany.
What do I do about it?
Introduce myself. Flirt gently.
Get totally and completely shy, and amble abashedly off without a phone number.
Spend the walk home listening to Jeff making horrendous fun of my acute attack of the bashfuls.