UW Bathrooms readers,
So much has transpired since my last contribution to our blog. The passing of time has had great impact not just on myself and you, but has also created a stir within UW Bathrooms’s tiny corner of the internet. Before I proceed onto the review proper, a reflection on these changes is — at the very least — a necessity. Perhaps we can make it more:
As a matter of reintroduction, I attended the University of Washington at the beginning of my undergraduate career. Many weird things came to pass during my two years in Seattle. I met a handful of new friends, but I mostly bore close witness to the college-aged lives of some best friends from my hometown. That experience was not unlike watching the Toy Story trilogy play out before me — people and relationships shifting uncomfortably, the swilling of firewater, the shaving of heads, the power and the glory. All entirely fueled by compulsory King County Metro passes and unwashed silverware.
But I digress. One such new someone was Aaron, and one such strange something was the creation of this blog. The product of much running at Seattle’s favorite virtual street-ball destination (Greenlake), the vision for UW Bathrooms has ranged from literally sophomoric humor to smartphone app development. Pipe dreams and ambitions aside, the blog experienced some unexpected glory days during May of 2012, when it became the top entry of the r/udub subreddit, as well as having approximately 2,500 views that month. With blatant hubris, I ask readers to note again the date of my last UW Bathrooms post.
It turns out that having a critically lauded and wildly popular WordPress site about toilets does not provide the sort of fulfillment I anticipated when I matriculated at UW. For reasons either too numerous or too personal to list on a near-defunct blog (if a grievance goes unread on the internet, does it make a sound?), I sought transfer to a new college.
Along the way, I spent a summer as a “Fulbrighter” in the United Kingdom. That turn of events might be the weirdest yet.
There were attempts to blog during this time abroad, but the prospect of anything more serious than UW Bathrooms daunted me. In an effort to return this post to its thematic intentions, the toilets of Wales were subtly different than their Yank derivatives, and may merit a retrospective if UW Bathrooms becomes resuscitated one day.
At frickin’ last, we arrive at my review. Having chosen Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles as my new home, I had a grand old time first semester, overloading on Vitamin D and mocking less-than-hearty Californians whenever they utilized socks, long sleeves, or any other creature comfort made redundant by something called the Sun.
Aaron sent me a text asking how I was making out during one particularly harsh cold front. With deference to his archetypal Seattle sarcasm, I replied that the frost had snapped my perfect class attendance wearing shorts.
Seeing that I had still had my wits about me, AB suggested a guest submission to breath some life into UW Bathrooms. With the perfect review already in mind, I agreed.
There are no bathrooms on the third floor of St. Robert’s Hall. Thus, during every break in Kantian Ethics, it was imperative that your correspondent shuffle down to St. Rob’s second story to refill his Nalgene and empty his bladder. Some potential bathroom goers may be deterred by the requisite stair climb/descent to the second floor, but rest assured that what awaits in the bathroom is well worth it. The payoff has been described to your correspondent as “The Creeper Bathroom.”
LMU is a university that capitalizes famously on its location, particularly its bluff view of the Los Angeles Basin. While yr. correspondent already understood the Bluff as an amazing setting to seduce girls with cars or to impress Kobe Bryant with a gnarly switchflip, the post-card worthy scene was a totally unexpected sight from an on-campus bathroom.
The lights of LA County were sprawled out like diamonds. Cars driving in every direction, millions of Angelenos leading millions of lives. A strange thing to consider while using an otherwise unspectacular urinal. With window wide open and sea breeze blowing in, bathroom goers are palpably connected to the promise of the City of Angels. The bathroom’s flippant concern for privacy must be a commentary on stereotypes of municipal exhibitionism. With Sacred Heart Chapel in the foreground, the bathroom user feels a sense of reverence. When Nietzsche said that God is dead, he knew nothing of the porcelain variety.
If having your trajectory altered by coastal wind or Sunken-Gardens sunbather does not pique your interest, make use of the more discreet standie farther from aforementioned window, or one of the three boring old stalls (unused by your correspondent). I haven’t the foggiest (marine layer-iest) idea what department teaches in St. Rob’s, but it must be a popular one, as our well-located bathroom looks overworked by an evening class. Over the course of an entire semester, remaining paper towels at 6:30 PM were only noted once. Water sits in tense little puddles all over the counter. A user quickly leaves the serenity of the Bluff View for the busy halls of St. Robert’s. Life goes on and on.
Perhaps in the early morning, before the first administrative assistant has missed the garbage pail with a paper towel, this bathroom is a picture of serenity. Maybe all readers should time their urinary schedules so as to be at St. Rob’s 2nd floor when the Sun sinks into Pacific. Certainly an Airblade© hand dryer should be installed. Beautiful moments could be made here, folks.
St. Robert’s Hall 2nd Floor Men’s Restroom is easily my favorite on Loyola Marymount’s Campus. The facilities themselves are standard, but the “Wow factor” is something special. So, go use this bathroom. Watch as your friends play frisbee, as wedding parties gather at the Chapel door, as the smog lifts each day in the distance. Consider what this bathroom could be, and what you could be.
SAINT ROBERT’S HALL SECOND FLOOR MEN’S ROOM: Priceless in a world of wild-eyed awe and unending interstate highways.