Brooklyn Optimist, ever the optimist, is still excited about voting despite a broken ballot in Greenpoint. Here’s an excerpt from his story. Read the rest at BO.

As I made my way with Mrs. Optimist and our soon-to-be-born baby in tow
to the polling place on Monitor and Driggs, I readied myself to pull
the lever of history. After two years of waiting, hoping, praying, and
screaming for change, the time had come at last.

The
line at 7 a.m. this morning in Greenpoint was shorter than we had
anticipated, but still sizable enough to augur the massive turnout that
is certain to sweep the country today. On line before me stood 30 of my
fellow Brooklynites, and by the time we reach the booth another 50 or
so huddled behind us anxious to vote.

It took all the self-control I could muster not to cry out "OBAMA!" and give everyone on line a big hug.

I beamed.

And then I wilted.

Just
for a second, of course. Nothing can deprive me of the great hope and
excitement and pride I feel today to be an American – save for a
staggering surprise this evening (knock on every piece of wood in
existence). But, I was denied a tiny bit of the catharsis that has been
two years in the making.

As I took the final breezy steps to the
front of the line, I realized that the voting machine for the 50th AD,
93rd ED (and from what I could tell, also the 92nd ED) was busted.