Let me tell you about the day I saved Christmas caucus. It was just yesterday. Remember how I stupidly awesomely volunteered to help out with the caucus this year? Yeah. Well.

Our first and only training session was last Saturday. Throughout the meeting, it became clear to me that no one had really thought about the logistics of running a caucus for the number of people we could potentially see. That much was clear by the choice of venue alone.

The venue holds 1,050 people.

There are 10,000 active registered Democrats assigned to this caucus location.

By conservative estimates, we can expect 20%-30% of these voters to materialize on caucus day.

So, 2,000 to 3,000 people. In a space for 1,050. A space that is a) full of stairs and therefore not physically accessible at all, b) is located on the main drag of town where there is no parking, and b) was not even completely rented out to us– they were still showing movies in their small theatre.

Oh. Mah. Got.

I used to advise our campus activities board. I put on rock concerts and lectures for thousands of people. I hung out with Gloria Steinem and talked politics. I yelled and angrily shook a contract in the face of the Fastball’s manager (and every time I hear that one song they had I get pissed off all over again.) James Carville called me uptight, for the love of mike! I know what I am doing.

So about three days ago I started doing some research and calling people. “The venue– it’s a serious problem.” Everyone I talked to knew this. But no one was going to do anything about it.

Wait. I skipped a part. The part where after the meeting I was put in charge of check in and registration for the entire G.D. caucus. (Wait a sec while I breathe into this paper bag for a second, k?)

Phew. Back to Friday. I arrange for our chair, myself, and our other lead volunteer (who is 24 and fresh out of the Peace Corps) to tour the venue and try to figure out how we are going to shove ten pounds of shit in a five pound sack. But by the time Friday rolls around, in attendance are reps from Obama’s campaign, reps from Clinton’s campaign, the chair of the county democratic party, a rep from the state demo party, some ADA folks, and the venue manager. And there’s yelling. And people putting their foot down. And I just keep reminding them that there is. no. room.

The state rep’s solution? People can caucus in a satellite location across the street. And also out in the alley. OMFGAYFKM???

You make Democrats angry when they feel all disenfranchised and shit. And I am pretty sure that caucusing within inches of a cesspool of broken beer bottles, used condoms, and pizza boxes *might* be something that would raise their ire. Just a hunch.

I really, really fought for us to move the damned thing. Even though it meant re-educating voters, and paying for buses, and being out that money. I just didn’t see it working with us staying there. And the chair of the caucus felt the same way, but the rep from the State just kept saying there was no way, that this was “not an excercise in consensus-building,” and that we were staying with the venue, fire code be damned. Oh, there were bitter, volume-elevated words, dear Democrats.

And then we parted ways, at an impasse. But our chair knows people. And he was activating before he even left the building.

Not twenty minutes later, I got the call.

We tour the new venue tomorrow. And as happy as I am about it, I am totally freaking out. Because right about now is when fifty people are going to show up to this little shindig and it’s going to be on my head for fighting so hard for the move. Good thing my husband’s not running for office this year or anything… oh wait…

Crap.