Having convinced my professor to cancel class so that I could attend Ralph Nader's speech, I sat in the crowded auditorium, not knowing what to expect. Several hundred students, professors, and community members sat, not quite on the edge of their seats, waiting. I was on the edge of my seat not from excitement, but from an overfull bladder. I was afraid to leave, not wanting to miss the beginning of the speech.

Security lined the walls, and a camera crew stood poised, taping every moment of the wait. Finally, a short, pudgy man appeared and spoke for a while about the wonder that is Ralph Nader. Then, amidst an energetic round of applause, the man himself entered. He did not begin with an introduction, merely asked a question.

'How many of you have tried marijuana?'� Half the hands in the room rose into the air, and not all of them were attached to the arms of students. 'Now that I have your attention. . .'�

He continued by telling of his accomplishments, his goals, and the autobiography we could purchase for only $12.99, proceeds to fund his campaign for President. His stories were thought provoking, and his jokes amusing. He told of how, even if he was never elected President, his campaign would not be in vain, as an awareness of his cause was growing. At the end of his speech, he again offered his book for $12.99, and instructed volunteers in the audience to begin distributing books and collecting money.

After the first round of autobiographies were sold, he asked. 'So, who would like to purchase a copy of my autobiography for $24.99?'�

Again the volunteers circled the room, distributing books and collecting money. I was stunned, and my level of astonishment continued to rise along with the price of the autobiography, until bidding stalled just short of $200. At this point I gave up on my quest to wait until after the speech to use the restroom. I stumbled through the rows, tripping over backpacks and feet. Exiting the restroom moments later, considerably more relaxed, I crashed into a rather tall, rather surprised gentleman.

When I looked up, meaning to offer a sheepish apology, I was astounded. I had, quite literally, run into a candidate for the office of the President of the United States. Apparently his speech was over, although the majority of the people appeared to still be in the auditorium. I somehow managed a smile as the security men standing near him frowned at me disapprovingly.

'Um. . .Excuse me, Mr. President.'� I stammered.

'Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we?'� He rumbled, and extended his hand.

It was only as I was placing my hand, still damp from washing it moments before, into his giant paw that I realized what I had said. 'Oh, sir, I'm incredibly sorry. It's just that. . .'�

I knew of no way to explain that I had never met such an important person before. I trailed off, searching inwardly for polite conversation. I was unsure of what to discuss. I thought of thanking him for his advocacy of placing seatbelts in vehicles, and decided that it was too cheesy. I simply stood, with my hand still in his, grinning idiotically.

'Did you get a copy of my book?'� He asked, breaking our physical contact.

'No sir.'� I said quickly. 'But if I had, I think I would have bought it while it still cost $12.99."

He laughed, and I released the breath I had been holding. 'Is there anything you'd like to bring to the attention of a candidate for President, young lady?'�

'Well. . .'� I considered, but although I was a firm supported of many causes, could not produce a single one to contribute.. 'I'm sure you know what needs done more than I do, sir.'�

He looked significantly at the men behind him. I began to wonder if I had offended him after all, or if he believed he was merely wasting his time with me. To my wonder, one of the guards produced a copy of the autobiography. He borrowed my pen, and discussed some of the contents of the rather thick hardcover as he signed it. I stood, nodding, unsure of what to say.

'Well, have a nice day, and don't forget to vote Nader in November.'� He turned away as he spoke.

Slightly disappointed that he had not stayed to talk longer, and more than a little relieved that I had managed not to say anything entirely moronic, I attempted to return to my seat. Once again I struggled to climb over the mounds of people. Very few people were leaving, despite the fact that the young man on stage was merely attempting to convince more of those gathered to purchase the book. I sat until the room began to empty out, clutching my prize to my chest.

When I returned to my room on the fourth floor some hours later, I turned to the page in the book where Mr. Nader had signed. It read, in looped handwriting 'Remember to take control of your own future. Don't let anyone take things from you that you don't want to give. ' Ralph Nader'�

With this in mind, I have one further thing to say. Mr. Nader, if you're reading this, would you please return my pen?'�

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