Greetings fellow restroom connoisseurs!
My deepest and sincerest apologies for my lack of participation in the review process thus far. But don’t fret! As Aaron so eloquently described me in a previous blog, I am a vast reservoir of awkwardness, so naturally I have a virtually eternal flow of awkward restroom encounters. My review style will be slightly different from my male counterparts for one reason, I’m shy. Therefor privacy often overrules the overall aesthetic quality of the facilities when it comes to ranking bathrooms in my personal life. Be aware of this bias, however I shall also do my best to incorporate a holistic approach to my reviews.
Shall I begin? Today began as any normal day in my life would. I woke up an hour later than I had intended, and rushed to hell (Odegaard Undergraduate Research Library) to use a computer, as my laptop has previously left this world and entered the next. RIP tacky wood grained Gateway, you are sorely missed L. After a pitiful attempt to complete two weeks worth of research in an hour and a half, I journeyed to Hutchinson Hall the home of the drama department. As I awkwardly awaited a meeting with my thesis advisor I thought, what’s worse: posting up uncomfortably in the hall as I pretend to appear entertained on my cell phone, or meander to the restroom and relieve myself of my glass of orange juice I had consumed for breakfast? As I proceeded into the horribly small, orangey bathroom my immediate reaction was “dear God, it’s worse than Odegaard!”
This bathroom is tiny, crammed full with two stalls, one sink and one paper towel dispenser. Even IKEA couldn’t make use of such a small amount of space. The walls and floor are so very burnt orange, and everything is so old. Not old like, wow this has a lot of character. But old like that nasty 70’s couch at your grandparents house that you never wanted to sit on. The toilet in the handicap stall is a finicky flusher, you have to hold the handle up (not down) until it has finished flushing, or else you are in danger of being the jerk who left a soggy wad of toilet paper and human waste to be discovered by the next unfortunate soul to journey into such a sad stall. The minuscule sink, paper towel dispenser and often overflowing garbage can are squished in close proximity to the wall. In short, you must essentially play a game of Twister against the bathroom in order to properly sanitize your hands and throw away your paper towel. The bonus challenge is to do all of this without touching the ever growing mountain of germ ridden, moist, discarded paper towels.
For the vast majority of you, I’m sure that the Drama Building is like Antartica or the Sahara Desert. A place filled with adventure and the eccentric, and a place that you will probably never visit. So I will familiarize you with a bit of the layout and history. When Hutchinson was originally constructed it was the women’s gym. (Science had yet to prove that girls do not have cooties. Also, this was prior to the creation of yoga pants). Because it used to be a gym, the layout is very strange and some rooms still have the original basketball court floors. In short, despite my aimless wandering through countless corridors I have yet to discover an alternative to the cramped, basement bathroom. I know I am not alone in my misfortune as this pitiful place is highly frequented living little privacy to the shy. Overall I would definitely recommend avoiding this bathroom. However, if you are in the building, it’s really the only option you have.
Until we meet again!