I really hope you read this. Yes, you. You’re the guy with the clipboard wearing the fake leather jacket and the cheap tie. The one who claims to be fighting for a just cause, but is really just a paid goon. In reality you’re a cardboard sign and a ripped jacket away from standing on the corner of Howe and Fair Oaks collecting change from cars stopped at the red light.

Yes, you know who you are. You stand on the east side of the library quad for hours and hassle people as they walk by. You want me to sign a petition to help funding for dandruff research in Texas, or to support the fight against the spread of freckles in Bolivia. I’m not sure if you’re compensated by the hour or by the signature, but whatever it is; you’re overpaid.

I can spot you from 100 yards away, and before you even ask, my reply is on the tip of my tongue. But thankfully our relationship always lasts less than 10 seconds. As I approach, we make eye contact and you hold out your clipboard and give me that little nod of the head like we’re friends, reuniting for the first time.

“Hey man, you registered to vote?” And without hesitation, I say “In New Hampshire.” Of course this isn’t true, but this response tends to stun clipboard guy just long enough for me to slide by unscathed. And with any luck that response will stick in his mind the rest of the day.

Now, most folks simply and politely decline without breaking stride. Others get caught off guard and find themselves stuck in that awkward conversation where you offer an excuse that’s paper thin. Or some just whip out the cell phone and do the fake talk while passing. But even that never stops you. No, Johnny Salesman, you always pull that inevitable half-hearted mutter at someone’s back as they escape. “It’ll only take 30 seconds,” you mumble snidely ?” like we’re the ones inconveniencing you.

Just quit suckering people out of their time. Maybe take a cue from Taco Joe on the corner and use a cardboard sign, or even better, a sandwich board. If you want us to stop, give us a reason to because right now you’re like an irritating telemarketer calling me way too early on a Sunday morning or way too late on Tuesday night.

Develop some sort of gimmick or show. I’ll gladly sign anything a clown puts in front of me. A little face paint and a rainbow afro go a long way you know.

Dunk tanks are always popular too. If you give me three chances to drop you into a vat of yuck, then I just may support your petition to stop pollution of the ozone. During homecoming week last semester there was a line 20 students long in the quad waiting for their chance to sink some guy in a plaid shirt. Think about it.

Animals are always a huge draw. The bear on a tricycle may be a bit extreme, but put a puppy on a leash, and it’s a magnet for any person not carrying a long white stick. Women will flock to you and you don’t even need to open your mouth. “Oh, he’s so cute!” will be the phrase of the day. Counter that with, “You know what else is cute? This formal petition to support campaign finance this election year.” It’s money in the bank.

But seriously, this is not a parking lot carnival where you can solicit passers-by to play your rigged game. Don’t go down that road. It only leads to telemarketing and door-to-door magazine sales. You don’t want that, I don’t want that, nobody wants that. Unless of course, you’re dressed in a purple jump suit, wearing massive yellow shoes and have a big red nose.