I've never shot another man, but I have been a vice president. It was in law school.
Back then, almost every Thursday, some group or another had a spot on steps in front of the law school where they would host what we lovingly called "Keg on the Steps." And every Thursday, I hung out there, enjoying the free beer with many of my fellow students. One Thursday, after spending a bit too much time there, we all went downstairs to the snack bar to fill our stomachs with something less alcoholic. Something with bread to soak up all that beer. And as we walked past the bulletin boards, we paused to see who was running for student government for the following year.
Most slots on the nomination sheets were still empty. At the time, it seemed very funny (though looking back it was just plain immature), but we decided to fill some of the rest of the spots with each other's names, knowing that none of us had any intent of running. Naturally, as soon as you saw someone writing your name for an office, you scratched it off and immediately wrote his name below it. There were only three or four or five of us doing this, though, and there were about ten spots for would-be office seekers to nominate themselves.
After two bustling minutes of writing and scratching, someone -- other than me -- came up with the clever idea of adding fictitious names, so as not to leave any empty lines. In a brief moment of semi-rational thought, we chose to do this only for the third year offices and "lesser" offices. Student body president and such we left alone. I'm not really sure whether we did this out of a modicum of respect for the process or because we figured that enough people cared about the major offices to notice our antics.
I like to think it was the former, because we fully expected to fool no one. The fake names were pretty obvious -- names like Peter Mouse, Mickey Rabbit, Cindy Brady and Mr. Edward Ed, but, as we learned later, people didn't really pay attention, and the long list of apparent candidates actually dissuaded most other office seekers from adding their names. As a result, the candidates were mostly limited to the eager few who had nominated themselves before we happened along.
To make the prank a bit more mean-spirited, someone also added the name of one real student -- the only guy in our class who had been disciplined for academic dishonesty. I won't mention his name, of course, because he is currently a licensed attorney. But then he was, to say the least, not well respected. I can't remember whose idea it was to plug his name into some of the lists, but I found it wickedly funny. Before leaving, I double checked every list. My name was still on two lists. I scratched my name off the list for treasurer. Then I got to the vice president spot. The list at that moment included a couple of cartoon characters, and couple of sitcom characters, about three thoroughly scratched off names of my friends, a known cheater who didn't want any attention, and me.
That got me thinking. I was in student government in high school, but when I got to college, I was too busy, and the burden of running and serving appeared to outweigh the benefits. In law school, however, being on student government your last year earned you the pleasant bonus of having your photo on the top line of the graduating class composite photo. That was a pretty sweet perk. And vice president didn't actually have to do anything except attend meetings. And usually there was pizza at those meetings. I decided not to scratch that one off just yet. I'd wait until I was sober.
A few nights later, after I had forgotten all about the post-kegger office nomination, I got a frantic phone call from the person running the election. "This may sound strange, or, well, maybe not, but your name was listed on the candidate signup sheet for third year vice president, and we think it may have been a joke."
I thought about it for a moment and decided to come clean. Sort of. "Yes, that was a joke. I didn't write my name down. In fact, I scratched my name off of about six lists."
"Oh, no! That's what we thought. The only other student listed on that sheet was [Mr. Cheater Guy], and we just spoke to [Mr. Cheater Guy] and he said the same thing. And all of the other names were actually non-students. So, you're not interested, then?"
I gave a short, dramatic pause. "You mean," I asked, "if I tell you to leave my name on the list, I'd be running unopposed?"
"Yes."
"What the heck," I replied. "Leave my name there."
Needless to say, I won the election. The rumors of free pizza at every meeting turned out to be highly exaggerated, but I did get my picture on the top row of the class composite.
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