My parents used to have this Shi-Tzu named Peabody. Apparently one genetic abnormality of a Shi-Tzu is a collapsed nostril. It is the most awful sound. Constant snorting and churtling. She was a sweet dog, but after a while that noise will give you a nervous tick.

And THAT was the sound I listened to for two hours as I stood in line to vote last Tuesday. The noise was being emitted from a human being and not a dog, however.

The couple standing behind, or rather right beside me was quirky to say the least. He was a plumber who had all kinds of thought on Joe the Plumber that he willingly shared with everyone. And, joy of joy, he had a voice that really carried. People two hours ahead of us kept looking back. Even Richelle, who I was on the phone with, asked who was being SO LOUD.

Then there was his wife. At first I thought someone was snoring. We were standing outside and it was very windy, so I kept just looking around trying to see if someone had nodded off in the monotony of standing around in a line that barely inched along. Nope. It was her. I’m not sure if what was wrong was a woman in serious need of a decongestant, or maybe a medical issue. Either way, not pleasant to listen to.

The snorting problem was unfortunately compunded by the fact she had no concept of personal space. She and her plumber hubs, who was hanging on top of here, just kept inching forward even though the line. was. not.

I finally just moved to the side so I wouldn’t be standing on top of the person in front of me. Now the snortling was about two inches from my ear. Good times.

There were other issues as well. Such as the fact the line was divided into two lanes “A through Land” and “L-Z”. I was in the latter and those in the former were in and out in 40 minutes.

All I can say is thank God for Richelle and her willingness to talk to me about all kinds of minutia. She distracted me enough to keep me from telling the no personal space lady to “GET. OUT. OF. MY. SPACE! For the love of Pete the snorting is driving me to a slow mad death by stabbing out my own eardrums!”

Now that I think of it, Richelle probably saved me from prison. Thanks for that friend!

Looking back it was funny. I almost called into a radio station discussing odd voting experiences, but that was more effort than I wanted to exert at the time. And, I would feel bad if they were listening. I’m sure there aren’t many Joe the Plumbers with seriously congested wives.

At least, I hope not.