You reading this blog post will not persuade you to vote. That’d be silly.
My reach is extremely limited, with only 151 followers on Twitter, 200 followers on Instagram, and 7 subscribers on WordPress. And even so, a “sh*t ton of famous people” have already urged you to vote; Aziz Ansari has angrily made a video during his lunch break in order to convince the last few people who were on the fence to vote; Amy Schumer has mildly threatened you by letting you know your voting history is public (not WHO you voted for, but IF you voted) to get you to the polls; and Funny Or Die has collaborated with Ben Affleck, Will Ferrell, Keegan Michael Key, Craig Robinson, Ben Schwartz and Naya Rivera to make state-specific “Everyone Votes” videos, just to name a few.
You already know how important it is to get out and vote. For Hillary Clinton. For Gary Johnson. For Hillary Clinton. For Jill Stein. For Hillary Clinton. For Donald Trump. For Hillary Clinton. For Deez Nuts. For Hillary Clinton. Four times for Glen Coco (but none for Gretchen Wieners).
Over Labor Day weekend of this year, I participated in a duoprov (improvisation with two performers) competition at Dojo Comedy with a fellow Bell Curved cast member where audience voting would determine which teams advance in a March-Madness-style bracket. While, as always, we wanted to focus on providing an entertaining show for the audience, we knew the real challenge would be recruiting audience members that would have our back when it came time to fill out their ballot.
We had recruited seven audience members; not bad for the Friday of Labor Day weekend. A few days before the event, my friend who had previously committed to attending sends me a text message saying that her grandpa would be in town that weekend to help her move to a new apartment. Immediately I text back, “BRING HIM.”
Extremely surprisingly our bloc grew to eight.
This was our first attempt at duoprov, so we went in with few expectations. We chose to perform a 10-minute mono-scene (read: stuck in one location for 10 minutes), which quickly turned into a seduction scene in an office break room. How we did is neither here-nor-there, we had eight audience members.
The top three teams that would advance to the next round were being announced. Not us in first. Not us in second. And a tie for third between our team and another team with SEVEN votes. Because this was a low-key competition and because the tie was handled with both teams advancing to the next round, I didn’t hire a private investigator to weed out the flip-flopper. I had a hunch or two, mostly fueled by a post-improv beer (or three).
Fast forward a week later, I was chatting to my friend (the one who had recruited her grandpa to come and support me), and I must have cared enough about the one vote to casually bring it up. I presented all of the possible scenarios to which she matter-of-factly replied, “Oh, no, it was my grandpa.” After he had cast his ballot he told her the two teams he had voted for, and when she told him that neither of those teams were my team, he replied that he thought she had brought him to vote for the two teams he most enjoyed. Which he had done.
The case was closed, and I couldn’t be mad because at the end of the day, her grandpa had performed his democratic duty.
And now, it’s your turn. Go to the polls and vote tomorrow, and make her grandpa proud. Not because of this blog post, but because one “team” is better.