I’m not registered to vote. I don’t accurately represent the people. I got a B-minus in high school American Government. But since I sort of go to school here, I have special clearance to vote in the Undergraduate Student Government elections. And I did, too. I was among the 700 or so voters who successfully penciled in their selections. You may have read in our cozy little BG News that Sarah Saccany was elected as our new fearless leader, but what you didn’t read were the results of the off-campus senate elections. I couldn’t tell you the entire results, but I do have an exclusive inside scoop into one of the senator-elects. One of them is me. And I didn’t even run.

That’s right, crazy ol’ Matt Sussman, the left-handed woman-hater who once wrote about a magical journey that stemmed from an updraft in Lot 6 Overflow, was elected to be an off-campus senator. When I heard the news I was quite shocked. I won a spot on the senate with just one vote. I was even standing next to the guy that voted for me as I was submitting my USG ballot. That man was University cross country superstar Kris Lachowski. Just for kicks and giggles, he wrote in my name under a couple of the non-competitive elections. Who says one person’s vote doesn’t count? Combine low voter turnout with Kris’ crazy antics, and you end up with me having the opportunity to represent students who grew old of the dorms.

If I know Kris well enough (and I do; we went to high school together), he probably remembers my disappointment during my high school student council elections. Freshman year I ran against one other person for class secretary and lost; the same fate occurred the following year. Despite my failure, I was a class representative both years because not enough people ran to hold an election. Therefore, I won by default, a feeling that has become all too familiar. Even though I was 0-for-2 in elections, I was feeling good, and ran for senior class VP, which I eventually lost in a four-way runoff. Close, but no inaugural speech. What Kris wouldn’t have known was that the stench of failure followed me around even before high school. In eighth grade I ran for student council, and there were ten spots available. Thirteen others ran, and the ten most popular kids won the election. I don’t hold it against them anymore. Instead, whenever I see them, I just smile, nod, and punch them in the face.

I must respectfully decline from the position for two reasons. The first would be where I live. I don’t know how I could be an off campus senator when I live on campus. That would be like the Detroit Tigers winning the Stanley Cup (or any championship, for that matter). The second one is my apathy for the spot. I never really wanted it. If I did accept the position, however, there would be only one thing I would want to change on campus, and it’s a very small and painless change. I would have the campus shuttles go both ways around campus, as opposed to both of them following the other around like lemmings. That way Kreischer natives don’t have to travel all the way to the parking lot, then Cincinnati, then back to Harshman And maybe I would also push for the orange cream-flavored SoBe’s to be more frequently in stock. I aspire for the attainable.

I had to go back and ask my loyal voter what drove him to elect me. When asked, Kris responded, “Not many people were running for it, so I thought it would be humorous to vote for you.” Needless to say, he “wasn’t surprised” with the results.

I didn’t want to let my only voter down, so I asked him what I could do had I accepted the position. His only wish was that I would “reinstate the track team.” A difficult yet noble favor. I can’t work miracles, Kris. If I could, I would turn water into wine, thereby becoming the favorite person in every fraternity. But don’t stop running fast on account of budget cuts. I don’t even run at all (in more ways than one).