>>> The Rollercoaster of Drama
By staff writer Simonne Cullen
November 2, 2003
One of my old dorms had a bunch of student lounges. Two in the basement and one on every floor for a grand total of six lounges in one hall, and they say theater majors can't add. These lounges are supposed to be used specifically for studying, but I know that almost all the students used four out of six of them when their roommate refused to leave the room. Which is fine, but there was more than one occasion where all of them were unavailable and people had to resort to the elevator. Perhaps what was even sadder is that one of my friends was not the first to consider it that night. Exhibit A – Sticky Floor.
The student lounge is also where each floor holds a monthly meeting to go over floor rules and concerns. I think it's just a way to root out who's been stealing all of the markers from the wipe boards, but that's another story. There's always that one girl on the floor (and yes girls, it's usually us) who is extremely environmentally aware. In the beginning of my freshman year this one chick suggested that we flush the toilet after it had been used two or more times to conserve water. By the end of the first intoxicated week and the invasion of the drunken football team flooding it, the second H2O-conservative girl almost passed out from the smell of vomit and poo to go on conserving precious toilet water. Which is fine by me because I always enjoy a fresh clean inviting bowl anyway.
Why is there always that one perky girl talking louder than a Mexican soccer announcer in the morning while waiting in line for the shower? There you are raccoon-eyed, zit creme caked to the face, bad breath, and greasy hair. There she is donning baby animal print pajamas and hair done up in messy pigtails. She then propels her high-pitched Minnie Mouse voice into a parade of questions at 8 in the morning towards everyone. “What did you do last night?” “How are your classes?” “Who are you dating?” “What does he look like?” “Any plans for Christmas?” “What about Spring Break?” “Is that a rash?” But I think there's some sort of warped logic to her madness, because by fourth week everyone's changed their schedule's to avoid her and she's got the entire bathroom to herself.
While we're speaking of bathrooms, let's address this issue. Do you have a specific stall you do your business in? I do and even though no one else will admit I know they do too. It's perfectly normal to grow attached to a particular stall and develop and understanding with it. “I know you're not as good as the one at home and never will be but until this communal living madness comes to an end, I will cover you with masses of toilet paper and call you Scooter.” And you and your toilet are happy—until the day you walk in to discover that Scooter has been violated. But it is not until several glances into the unflushed toilet do you finally realize that Scooter has been providing his services elsewhere. And you don't know whom to blame. Scooter? The other person? Or your own naiveté of believing that you're the only person who takes a dump in the third stall from the left.
Here's a little advice I learned the hard way. If you must break the seal do not under any circumstances do so at a frat house. Run to the student union or another dorm, or hell even a townie's house. Because if they have communal bathrooms in the house, which most of them do, there is nothing worse than hearing some guy take a noisy dump in the stall next to you while you're taking the longest leak of your life surrounded in porn tying to beat him out of there only to exit the stalls simultaneously and discover that he is the guy you have been trying to hook up with all night.
Girls dropping a deuce is completely different than guys. Most girls are really anal about this process—well the ones that admit they actually poop and aren't in denial having an excretory system. Guys can go, wipe, flush, and leave, stinking up the entire hallway and thinking nothing about it. Girls make sure no one is in the bathroom first, set down massive amounts of toilet paper, flush once after it drops so the smell can be eliminated, flush again after the wiping of the ass ritual, then exit the bathroom when no one is around to identify them as number two dropper. And should a fart slip out, a girl will stay in there until everyone on the floor has left for winter break.
Which reminds me…. I haven't seen my roommate in two days. Maybe I should go check out the stall situation.
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