This past semester I decided to come down from the high ivory towers of UR and descend into the gritty world of Minnesota politics.

Much to my dismay, instead of finding a world where elections were won or lost on the merits of the candidates and their respective opinions on the issues, I found a world where only one thing really mattered ? sex.

From under the desk of the Oval Office to the bedrooms and public restrooms of small towns, politics is mostly about sex. With less than three weeks left until judgment, the use of sex has increased both as a tool for getting votes and for slamming your opponent.

Recently a candidate for a state office was asked on a radio show where his wife has been throughout this entire campaign. His response was a cool side-step of “I don’t define my wife.”

Unfortunately for his chances, most people already knew about his extra-curricular activities. Countless people had seen this guy at local pubs with women or, even worse, hitting on the opposition’s research team.

However damaging this might prove to be, not having any perceived sexual life can be just as damaging to a campaign. Unfortunately, this is where I have personal experience.

You see, the candidate that I have spent the last three months of my life devoted to is single. Not only is he single, he is thirty, short and single.

His last name is remarkably close to “Hobbit,” which is unfortunate, because that is exactly what he resembles.

Hairy feet and all, the man I am working for looks like a Tolkien character jumped off the pages and into suburban Minnesota. Not exactly someone who inspires women to jump into bed with him.

My co-worker, Dan and I took turns escorting Mr. Hobbit to various events throughout the district.

Whenever Dan would escort Hobbit, I would hear reports of how terribly nervous and unprofessional he had acted. In contrast, whenever I escorted Hobbit, he was well-behaved and professional. I should have realized at this point that I was being used.

Now, I don’t consider myself all that attractive and certainly never thought I would land myself a job based on my looks.

However, here I was being used simply for my femaleness. When asked by Dan, Hobbit admitted that he behaved better around me because it made him look like he had a wife. All of a sudden, the adoring glances of the rest of the Hobbit family made sense.

I started to get especially worried when Hobbit told me how good I looked in red. It was later revealed that looking good in his campaign colors was one of the three requirements for being his wife. The other two I also unfortunately fit ? to be breathing and have breasts.

There are still a little less than three weeks left until Election Day and I am still accompanying the Hobbit to functions. While it has been flattering to be used for my body during the campaign, one thing still worries me ? why did he want to know my ring size?

Miller can be reached at amiller@campustimes.org.



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