“Would you like some candy?” they ask me on the way to class. “OF COURSE I WANT CANDY!” the empty growl of my stomach desperately responds. But sharp shooting pains of heartbreak quickly outdo my aching stomach as I am once again offered a bowl full of Dum Dums and a handful of homecoming campaign materials.
Whatever happened to trying to win votes? I am more than willing to be bribed for a vote as long as you have something more to offer than cheap candies and WordArt flyers. Give me chocolate! Give me Debbie cakes! Something! Stop teasing me, my poor stomach cannot take it any longer.
Now clearly, the elections are over, the winner will have already been announced by the time this column runs.
I am certain, however, that whoever the winner is for Homecoming queen and king, that their success was not determined by a bunch of suckers (at least not the suckers of the candy persuasion).
I actually ran for Home-coming queen when I was at my community college.
And yes, this is as big of a joke at a community college, but the battle of popularity and cheap candies was just as fierce.
I had no more popularity back then than the peon status I currently maintain, however I was able to receive runner-up because half of the competition was based on writing a paper about why we are proud to be Americans and my paper being the only mildly sarcastic article out of the other 10 Miss America versions gave me an edge. No Dum Dums required . or votes for that matter . I probably only received two.
And let me tell you what a difference this made in my life, I have a brand new dust collector that I keep on a shelf beside my bed made of rhinestone, plastic and hair combs. Although I did have quite a lot of fun wearing it around in the hallways of Walters State out of cheap amusement for weeks afterward as I collected stares that ranged from fright to worry.
So what will you do for the rest of the student body once you receive your fake crown?
I am sure that you will forever have the memories from this once in a lifetime college experience, and enjoy the warmth of having your friends and organization(s) support you.
Or if you are like me, you will finally come face to the face with the cold hard fact that no one likes you.
Or perhaps a year from now as you dust off your very own piece of plastic rhinestone headgear, you will reminisce the day that you tricked that poor columnist into thinking you had something more substantial to offer her than Dum Dums.

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