Who knew one little notebook could cause such a stir? In someone’s pants.

I managed to do the unthinkable.

Somehow, in my hurry to escape the precinct I work on election day, I left my notebook behind.   A water-stained, raggedy repository for chicken scratched random thoughts, blog post starts, F words, & sexual references, it’s like my brain… on paper.    Which means it could be pretty dangerous in the hands of the wrong people.

Like the senior citizens I left it with.

See, my precinct…is also the activity center/dance hall for a senior citizen’s apartment complex.

After the shock wore off, I had a quick moment where I thought it was kind of cool.  Basically, I had left my innermost thoughts in the hands of America’s greatest generation… who probably hadn’t seen any action since 1972.  If I couldn’t get it back, I hoped they had passed it around, letting it spread through their colony like a herpes virus.

Which, according to my friend Izabella, is kind of how it works.  Apparently, they’re considered the greatest generation for a reason.  They do get action, & plenty of it!  Senior centers are one of the top contributors to the spread of various STDs.

Ummm…

So I kind of just started a new epidemic?

We’re going to call it The Dor.  It’s kind of like the clap, minus the oozing genitals & painful urination.

Side Note: DO NOT Google “the clap symptoms” from your cubicle at work.  You never know who’s going to walk up behind you & conclusions cannot be un-jumped.

You’re welcome.

Obviously, I worked my ass off Tuesday.  It was a busy election, especially considering it had a couple of hot-button issues on it. (Most importantly, a motion to repeal Ohio Senate Bill 5, which limited collective bargaining rights for public employees.)

But that’s not my point.

Between voters, I had been working on a new post.  Laptops and cell phones are not allowed in the polling locations, so I was working on it old-school, scribbling things in my notebook every chance I got.

Because do you know what’s funnier than old people?  Old people who have no idea they’re funny!

One of my judges is a talker.  I mean, she NEVER STOPS!  While that normally makes me a little crazy, I was loving it!  She just kept saying things that cracked me up, but she had no idea why I was laughing.

– Do you have a Johnson?

– Which one do you have?  8″?

– And then you can get behind her.

– Just stick it in.

– They packed me real good one time.

– They checked this girl & she was writhing in the bed!

– She was crawling on the floor & couldn’t get in the bed.

– You get down on your knees?

– I had a guy tell me once I should never get on my knees.

– Who did you?

– He had to put both hands behind my knees & flip me over!

– A doctor told me once that it’s in my personality to get really attached really fast.

(THEN SHE PULLED OUT A KNIFE!  So, my laughter was more of a nervous wide-eyed “heh heh heh.”)

Anyway, by the time I realized the notebook was gone, the senior center was closed.  So, I called before work the next morning.  It wasn’t in the lost & found, but I knew it had to be there… or in the backseat of my Judge 2’s minivan… OR turned into the Board of Elections with the ballots.

While none of the three would be easy to face up to, I was really hoping I hadn’t turned it in.  Something tells me the county would frown upon my multi-tasking.

I decided to stop by the senior center on my way to work.  After checking the lost & found again, I convinced the office manager to let me look around in the ballroom.

Nothing.

….Until we checked a closet in the back.

Apparently, the guy who locked up that night decided to spend a little “alone time” with my notebook.

He must have been interrupted, though.  It was lying open to a particularly explicit page… on an organ.

You can fill in your own joke about an organ in the closet.

I’ll be busy disinfecting my notebook.

For the record, I didn't notice any suspicious new stains.