You gain a few pounds from eating free sweets all day.
Let's be honest, no-one really cares that much about candidates' policies or beliefs - it's the quality and amount of free sweets that win elections. One candidate for President at the University of Liverpool offered free licorice to prospective voters and was chased off campus by angry students, so be careful.
You become immune to terrible puns.
At the start of election season, you can't help but cringe violently at some candidates' terrible pun slogans. By the time voting actually opens, these terrible attempts at humour will just go right over your head. "Ahh, your surname's Street and you've got a Quality Street on your poster. Nice one."
Your pockets are full of flyers
You don't want to be mean to the chirpy guy handing out election flyers outside the library. You don't want to upset him by throwing it in the bin straight away either, so you put it in your pocket. Two weeks later there's about 30 crumpled fliers in each of your pockets and you can't move without rustling.
Your bullshit detector becomes very finely tuned.
Free bus travel throughout the city, a 'puppy room' in the library, and the establishment of a University hairdresser - just some of the more ridiculous (and real) promises made by candidates at Universities across the country. That quiet guy campaigning to get new sofas in the Union may have a boring manifesto, but at least he's realistic.
You become disillusioned
Your conversations with friends quickly become dominated by discussions of how pointless campus politics is, and the ever-cheery faces of the candidates plastered around Uni only make you feel worse. You make vague threats to tear up your ballot or run as a joke candidate, but you decide that staying in bed and watching Pointless on voting day is just as valid a protest.
You're suddenly the busiest person on campus.
Everyone has that one friend (usually a friend of a friend) who's running for election who asks you to don a custom t-shirt and do some campaigning for them. All of a sudden you've got lectures, seminars, doctor's appointments and sports fixtures to attend. You can't really help out today, but maybe next week, yeah?
You avoid the main parts of Uni altogether.
It might make you 20 minutes late for a lecture, but staying away from the main areas of campus will mean that you'll have a brief break from flyerers, campaigners, and candidates. Bliss.
You become a connoisseur of election posters.
Did you think elections were won and lost on the strength of the candidates? Wrong. Mostly, it's all about font choices. A cluttered, poorly-designed poster will lead to a disorganised, poorly-run Union. If you're still a floating voter on election day, take into account which candidates used Helvetica and which used Comic Sans to help you decide.
You become worried about how easily bribed you are.
You like to think of yourself as a fairly independent person, unswayed by personality politics or big, brash campaigns. Then an election candidate gives you a free t-shirt and a Chupa Chup and suddenly you're prepared to go and break their opponents' legs. If a major political party bought people like this, someone would be going to prison.
But in the end, you still get caught up in it all.
Sure, you'll be cynical and snarky about the election for weeks, but when the results are finally counted and a winner is chosen, you'll secretly be scouring Twitter to find out the results before anyone else. Whenever you see the winner wandering around campus in the weeks to come, you'll stare like you've just seen an A-list celeb. Damn.