You know you're a campus senior when you never expect to walk in a straight pattern from transportation to class. Seniors know the inconvenient multitasking involved in attempting to avoid a three-ring circus of humanitarian marketers, environmental salespeople and vicious political revolutionaries who worm into their bank accounts and convince them to agree to their prosaic petition they've signed twice before.

As a senior myself, it's still weird to have someone waiting to greet me once I cross 19th Avenue from Muni at the beginning of each semester. I forget about those patronizing welcomes from the huge onslaught of special interest groups.

It's annoying but it's not that difficult for me to walk through campus.

First, I am usually unaware before I see wide-eyed, ravenous vultures emerge onto my path. Then I immediately remember my knack for avoiding their aggressive sales pitches as sharp as they remember how to feign hungry, marketing smiles.

I carry a pop up blocker on my face.

I look preoccupied or standoffish at all times against my barrage of vulture-like solicitors who gang up on me for the kill. I pull out my cell phone. I toy with my book bag zipper. As long as I seem busy, they don't talk to me.

The campus layout encourages student assault from peddlers due to cramped traffic flow with the buildings arranged in a circle and two narrow entrance ways from 19th Avenue. I don't know how new students can arrive to class on time with all the bartering backwash. It seems virtually impossible.

Here's some advice if you're a constant victim to campus solicitation: remember to be prepared.

Skim through your new textbooks. Forget how to speak English. These salespeople are highly trained and won’t let your initial rejection discourage or stop them from ruining your day. They believe every “no” is one step closer to a “yes.” They want commissions for the cost of your suffering. Your name on the list. Your impressionable youthful self.

Soon, you too will travel the beaten war path and give rejection to hundreds of advertising trolls with your head held high, by um, which you mean, focusing your attention on the pines instead.

Save the children. Save the environment. Save a vacant pass for us to walk to class.

Thanks.