Still pissed off

By Lauren Reilly
March 11, 2005

There’s nothing quite like that feeling-stimulated stretch receptors resulting in nothing less than satisfying micturition. That’s right, I’m talking about piss. Everybody’s experienced some bathroom visits that made you say, “I’ve never had to pee so bad in my life.” Maybe it’s that I’m well hydrated, but I find that I have the bladder of a 75-year-old woman that’s had 12 kids; needless to say, I’m pretty sure I say that on a daily basis.

Seeing that I’m a creature of habit, when it comes time for that tinkle of a lifetime, I’m particular of its whereabouts-the far stall in the women’s bathroom on the second floor of Founder’s Hall. Weird? Perhaps. Compulsive? Absolutely. Hey, to each his own. And what’s it to you anyway? I could be doing more bizarre and destructive things like kidnapping innocent children and meticulously crafting ransom notes with individually cutout letters from magazines while listening to Soft Cell and admiring my shrine to David Hasselhoff. Talk about tainted love. Besides, do you know how expensive subscriptions are these days? Regardless, the last stall belongs to me and my ureters.

Unfortunately, for me, this affair has been nothing but tainted, for my favorite toilet is dyslexic. I know what you’re thinking: toilets don’t read, which I’m sure frustrates the hell out of them since they are surrounded by student-sponsored flyers like “facts while you crap,” or obsolete “smoke-out day” reminders. While ordinary cans flush with the simple push of the chrome lever, my preferred porcelain princess can on be rejuvenated by an upward pull.

I must admit, after my first encounter with this I considered switching stalls; in fact, I tried, but the alternatives were not up to par for my complex. To begin with, I don’t mess with the handicapped stall-it has more square footage than the Milky Way, not to mention that the toilet necessitates a ladder; and by ladder I mean beanstalk-way out of squatability range.

The two remaining options aren’t much better; the nearest stall is too close to the sinks and the adjacent stall has a wide gap between the door and its frame. I can deal with this fissure if necessary-I guess if you get your jollies by watching me piddle then it’s a win-win situation-but I’d rather opt for the security of a cinderblock wall. Nevertheless, I have become conditioned to pull when flushing.

I seem to be part of the few that have.

Numerous times I have encountered bewildered students racking their brains over this simple malfunction. The perpetrator’s attempts usually result in a dervish of frantic footsteps followed by inevitable failure. Are you square dancing in there? You might want to try the handicapped stall; Lord knows there’s enough room.

I can only imagine what’s going through their minds at that point; after all, they’ve tried everything. I mean, if it doesn’t flush when you push then what can you possibly do? It’s not like there’s any action that could be taken to counteract that of a push.

How do you people open doors?

This neglect is not just a plumbing anomaly, but an allegory of Cabrinian life as well. If the solution is unconventional, the endeavor is relinquished and left as an inconvenience to others-no independent thought, no consideration.

I’m not blaming this solely on students; oftentimes people learn by example, especially when their surroundings condone such disregard. Hey, we all know the college’s motto should be “acceptance without reason,” but integrity isn’t one of our core values. Being so candid probably wouldn’t be so beneficial for admissions; consequently causing a domino effect of catastrophic proportions.

Think about it, if Cabrini accepted fewer applicants, then there would probably be enough housing for all students, including those people who continue to come back year-after-year. What are they called again? Oh right…seniors.

It may also-merely speculating-reduce the ratio of students to faculty members, possibly resulting in improved academics and higher morale among the college community.

Calm down-remember, this is a hypothetical situation, and highly preventable. It’s a good thing that we cut those faculty and staff benefits before things started to get out of control.

See, it pays not to question things. Some call it trust, historians term it totalitarianism; either way, the tactic certainly worked out for Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy and the USSR. Can you imagine all of the potential realizations we’d have to face without intellectual limitations? Just think, if it weren’t for our shut-up-and-listen environment, we might have the opportunity to influence the decisions that immediately affect us-and I think it’s safe to say that Mother Cabrini would never have wanted students to be subjected that.

It’s just a shame she wasn’t a plumber.

Stop being a pushover-pull yourself together before it all goes down the drain.

Posted to the web by Ryan Norris

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Lauren Reilly

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