For those of you who have never had to endure the hardships of sharing a bathroom with 45 other young adults, good for you. After living in a dormitory for only a short two months, I have come to a couple of conclusions. One, people are disgusting. Two, communal bathrooms are the bane of my existence. Here is why.
People don’t flush. Am I missing something, here? Because I still haven’t been able to come up with a reason as to why a 19 year old human is not able to properly dispose of their body’s excretions. I would assume that if someone was capable of gaining entry into a well-respected University, then they would have the capacity to flush the toilet. But, alas, my assumptions were wrong, and the not-flushing epidemic is still alive in the world of publicly shared restrooms.
No janitors on weekends. At first, this concept seems reasonable. But then Saturday arrives, and you realize that your beloved bathroom has transformed into the most disgusting place you have ever encountered. For some reason, people think that the weekend is an excuse to throw their paper towels everywhere except the trashcan, in addition to placing their toilet paper in places that are not the toilet. Never in my life have I been so happy to hear the sound of a vacuum cleaner on a Monday morning.
People disobey the laws of the bathroom. Do people have no respect for the rules put forth by the higher-ups of our dormitory? The sign on the door distinctly states that no boys are allowed in this bathroom, yet I still hear you and your boyfriend giggling in the handicap stall 2 feet away from me. The janitor couldn't be more clear about "No Personal Trash," yet my floor mates still pile their half eaten Chinese take-out into the relatively small trash bin.
People get too drunk. Which is understandable. Throwing up in, and around, the sink is not. These incompetents are the ones who make this supposedly peaceful place a war zone. When the sink is literally three steps from the toilet -- the only place where projectile vomit belongs -- it is hard to sympathize with these bathroom-terrorists. I hope that, someday soon, I will be able to brush my teeth without fear.
Unidentifiable substances. This includes, but is not limited to, globs of hair in every crevice of the lavatory, chunks of an unknown something wedged into the shower drain, and some sort of expired food that almost made it into the trash. It is extremely hard to tell what these horrifyingly foreign substances are, or where they come from. All I know is that these globs of whatever are terrifying, and I'd feel more comfortable wearing rain boots whilst showering.
People listen to horrible music. Coming into college, I knew that sharing a bathroom with multiple students would not be ideal. However, I never imagined that I would have to listen to 15 minutes of Scream-O music while shaving my legs. I fancy myself as someone who is very tolerant of other people’s diverse interests -- but to the girl who plays Slipknot while I’m trying to shampoo and condition: you are killing me. I really look forward to the day where I can wash myself without hearing a medley of very questionable musical selections.
In conclusion, communal bathrooms are foul, putrid, toxic, revolting. They are undoubtedly the worst part of freshman year, if not the worst part of life. But, on the bright side, I only have to deal with them for 195 more days, three hours, 53 minutes, and 12 seconds.
