Trust me: I’m not one of those people protesting the U.S. Census. And this is not one of those diatribes about how the Census is a secret plot by our socialist government to send us to concentration camps.

Sure, it’s possible that the government is plotting to take over our lives, but I see no convincing evidence that these theories are not of the conspiracy (read: crackpot) variety.

I also don’t think the questionnaire’s use of the antiquated designation “Negro” threatens to push America into the years before the Civil Rights Act nor do I think ACORN’s possible involvement in recruiting is a problem. In fact, ACORN would probably take countless pimps and prostitutes off the corner by helping them get legitimate day jobs as Census takers. (“Bitch better have my demographics!”)

But I do have a problem with the Census, which sent four of its most assertive representatives to Frary Dining Hall Tuesday to count students.

The people sent by the Census more resembled eighteenth-century British Navy press gangs than clerical workers hired to help count our nation’s diverse residents.

I ran into the dining hall around 1pm, trying to grab a to-go meal in a rush before my 1:15 class. When I walked past one of the Census collectors positioned at the door, he chased me into the dining hall to give me a form. He censoriously suggested I complete the ten-question survey while I ate.

Intent on avoiding any debate over this issue, I decided to creep out of another exit. Unfortunately, Centries had cordoned off both entrances.

I tried to walk past the second Centinel.

“Oh, did you remember to fill out your Census form,” she asked, noticing the questionnaire rolled up in my back pocket.“I don’t have time to do it right now,” I replied.

“You need to do it right now. Take one or two minutes to fill it out.”

“I have to go — I’m sorry.”

She seethed, incredulity dripping from her jowls. She snatched the form out of my back pocket, not wanting to waste one of the precious streamlined forms on such an ingrate.

I want to do my civic duty, but even the federal government should treat its denizens with some modicum of respect — especially around tax time, as they pick our pockets.

So I have just one message for the Census bureau and its representatives: if you want my form turned in, ask me nicely.