No, girls can’t poop you disgusting simpleton. But hypothetically, if they did, I’d probably have been paid 77 to crap on campus compared to the dollar of my male counterparts.
As I slunk to the depths of Brogden Psychology Building, for a brief moment I could imagine what it would have been like to have an excretory system. And after laying eyes on what welcomed me at the foot of the stairs, I imagined that to crap within those achromatic walls would have been to crap where no man should ever have to crap.
Before entering the confines of this feminine dungeon, I found myself at the back of a seemingly endless line of women stretching halfway up the staircase — all waiting to crimp their hair, I imagine. What would greet me when I finally Freudian slipped through those glaucous doors? Was I prepared to shatter the porcelain ceiling?
Six grim stalls, split between two opposing walls, clenched me in a holistically unimpressive, off-white grasp. The strange vending machine nailed to the wall appeared to offer concealed and affordable restroom snacks, but upon depositing 25 cents, it was no Twix bar that I collected.
As boys thundered down the stairs and clamored into the adjacent men’s bathroom — shockingly absent of any line or wait time — the steady traffic to the women’s bathroom became impossible to ignore. The single positive of such an unforgivable wait was that when finally awarded with a two-foot wide stall with a 50 percent chance of having a functioning lock, the constant hum of hand dryers, foot traffic and running water ensured even the most pee-shy woman could excrete in peace.
The automatic hair dryers are preset to a power level sufficient to dry a pair of hands in two to three business days, but at least the slim counter under the mirror can hold each girls pocket-size hair dryer and iced caramel macchiato.
The linoleum managed to reflect an eggshell hue on every surface of the bathroom, including the patrons themselves. As psychology is the most popular major at UW, the building is home to the largest percentage of female Letters and Science students on campus. Yet, unfortunately, the bathroom mirrors the remainder of the Psychology building — temperamental, claustrophobic and unlikely to feed a family of four.
As a psychology major, I am let down, and will resort to reading and contributing to the occasional flashes of moody graffiti and Lana del Ray lyrics that provide solace to me as I pray that someday, my daughter will grow up in a world where she too can truly crap on campus.
Specifics
Temperature: Warm with feminine glow
Traffic: Exceedingly heavy since all lectures end at the same time
Stalls: Six slim fit stalls
Toilet Paper: Standard one-ply
Sinks: Six manual faucets
Dryers: Four automatic hand dryers
Cell Service: Zero bars – women can’t use phones, duh
Toilet Flush Mechanism: Manual
Graffiti: Fleeting
Overall: 3/5
