After a few blocks, Juan paused to admire peppers and tomatoes growing in a roadside garden. He looked up at the sky. The sun was near its zenith, and it was starting to get uncomfortably hot. Inside his bag were more than twenty mail-in ballots. A good day’s haul. He figured he’d just finish up this block and head for home.
He continued walking down his street, systematically opening and closing mailboxes, until he heard an angry man shout, “Hey!”
Juan flinched. At this time of day, most men were at work. He turned and saw a small elderly man moving aggressively towards him, “What are you doing?” he demanded.
This is the hardest part of the job, Juan thought. But he’d been through this before. With difficulty, he visibly relaxed and presented his best smile. “Hey, buddy,” Juan held his hands apart in a non-threatening way. “Sorry about that, let me introduce myself...”
“I don't care who you are!” The man seemed jumpy, but Juan didn’t think he was in any real danger. “You're not supposed to be opening those! That’s illegal!”
“Like I said, I’m really sorry about that,” Juan held out his hand and spoke in rapid Spanish. “My name is Juan. I'm with Latinos por la Libertad. We're a nonprofit organization dedicated to the idea that all Latinos have the right to security, prosperity, and the American Dream.”
“What are you doing opening our mailboxes like that?”
“I didn’t mean any harm, señor,” Juan realized that this man wasn't going to shake his hand, so he dropped it back to his side. “But you probably didn't know that the absentee ballots came out today, right? I noticed you didn't have a ballot in your mailbox, which tells me you probably didn't register to vote this year. Am I right?”
“Who’s your supervisor?” The old man wasn’t buying Juan’s story. “Does he know you’re doing this?”
Juan pursed his lips and cocked his head dismissively, “Can I ask you a question?” Then, without waiting for the old man to answer, he continued, “How long have you lived here? Ten years? Twenty?”
Juan’s friendly indifference to the felony he was committing unbalanced the man, causing him to answer Juan’s question cautiously, “Yeah, about that long.”
Works every time, Juan thought, sizing the man up. “And in all that time, you’ve never voted, have you? Not once?”
“Well, I can’t. I’m not a citizen,” the man confessed, then nervously added, “I’ve got a green card, but I can’t vote.”
“That's what I'm here to talk about!” Juan’s eyes lit up enthusiastically. “This year, you can vote in the federal elections, even if you’re not a citizen!”
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