You got it, Madam.
All these people took real risks, real hazards, in going out to vote--the polls could have been blown up by a suicide bomber, or riddled with machine-gun fire, for all they knew.
And here in America, we have those who griped and complained and whined and moaned and carried on, because they had to wait a few minutes to vote, and were not given a comfortable recliner-chair on which to sit, and a cup of coffee and a doughnut, while waiting their turn.
[And here in America, we have those who griped and complained and whined and moaned and carried on, because they had to wait a few minutes to vote, and were not given a comfortable recliner-chair on which to sit, and a cup of coffee and a doughnut, while waiting their turn.]
That's right. And I forgot to mention the elderly Iraqis whose relatives or friends or neighbors WHEELED them to the polls in wheelbarrows.