No one likes being used, but in this case I`m willing. It sounds like fun.

Mike Hayes, 18, is a freshman science major at the University of Illinois in Champaign. He is looking for a way to finance his college education, and he decided that my column is the answer.

''How many people read your column?'' he asked me.

I told him I didn`t know.

''Millions, right?'' he said. ''All over the country, right?''

I said I supposed that was true.

''Well, here`s my idea,'' he said, and proceeded to explain.

I`ll break it down simply: Mike Hayes wants every person who is reading this column right this minute to send him a penny.

''Just one penny,'' Hayes said. ''A penny doesn`t mean anything to anyone. If everyone who is reading your column looks around the room right now, there will be a penny under the couch cushion, or on the corner of the desk, or on the floor. That`s all I`m asking. A penny from each of your readers.''

The way Hayes figures it, four years at the University of Illinois will cost him approximately $28,000. That includes tuition, room, food, books-everything. And $28,000 translates out to 2.8 million pennies.

You probably ought to have a little background on Mike Hayes:

He grew up in Rochelle, Ill., a community in the middle of farm country with a population of approximately 9,000. Last spring he graduated from Rochelle Township High School; he had a B-plus grade-point average. During his high school years he worked as a clerk at Barker`s Drugstore in Rochelle. ''It`s really hard getting used to a campus this big,'' he said. ''There are between 35,000 and 40,000 students at the University of Illinois. So basically, this school is four times as big as the town I grew up in. It`s a little scary.''

He said that he could borrow college money from his parents, ''but I don`t want to put them in debt, which is why I got the idea of asking for a penny from each of your readers. I don`t really feel like I`m begging. I honestly believe that a penny means so little these days, that no one will feel that it`s a hardship to send a penny to me.''

He has set up a mailing address for the pennies. Here it is:

Many Pennies for Mike; Box 13; Rochelle, Ill. 61068.

He realizes there is an irony here:

''It costs 22 cents to send a letter,'' he said. ''So anyone who decides to send me a penny will be spending 22 times that amount just to buy a stamp. I`ve been trying and trying to figure out a way to get around that. But I can`t think of anything. The government sets the price of postage, I don`t. So all I can say is that I only want one penny from each of your readers, and I apologize in advance for the fact that they`re going to have to spend money on a stamp, too.''

Mike Hayes knows-and I know-the real dilemma here.

Right now, every person who is reading this column is thinking, ''That`s a pretty funny idea. I think I`ll send the kid a penny.''

But the vast majority of you won`t. You`ll chuckle, and maybe shake your head, and if someone else is in the room you might mention this to him or her. But then you`ll just turn the page and forget about it.

It`s not that the penny means anything to you. It`s just that getting out of your chair, finding an envelope, addressing it, putting a stamp on it and remembering to drop it in a mailbox is a lot of trouble.

Well . . . not a lot of trouble. But more trouble than you`re willing to deal with.

''Yeah, that`s going to be the problem,'' Mike Hayes said. ''No one`s going to be unwilling to send me a penny. They`re just not going to get around to doing it.''

I`ll tell you what: Do it. Right now. Put the paper down. Go put the penny in the envelope.

I mean it. Now.

QUIT READING! Go put the penny in the envelope.

I`ll even save you the trouble of searching back up through the column for the address.

Many Pennies for Mike; Box 13; Rochelle, Ill. 61068.