For the first time in two years, I have been blessed with the opportunity to have a class in the Fisheries Sciences building. For liberal arts majors, this is just another building in south campus shrouded in the fog of anonymity that rolls off Union Bay in the mornings. But for those of us studying biological and/or life sciences, it is the bane of our existence. Having the letters FSH next to your class schedule in MyUW is synonymous to being called up by the Council of Elrond to find your way into Mordor, except you have to do it two to three times a week. It’s the building you take the bus for an awkwardly short period of time en route to getting there because it’s just that far away from your house. Some people go to the lengths of not even signing up for classes they want to take simply because it’s taught in the Fisheries building. Tucked away into the far southwestern corner of campus, it is the subject of many, many, many complaints of privileged university students, and this will not change any time in the near future.
So how do we, as the student body, cope with this? As long as the environmental science, fisheries, and oceanography departments keep receiving funding, some of us will have academic reasons to go to the faraway lands of South Campus, and with increasing enrollment, human presence in these buildings are not going to lessen any time soon. One alternative is to avoid science majors altogether, but this has far-reaching societal implications that, arguably, overshadows the issue of FSH being far away from all your other classes. Looks like we’re going to have to deal with it.
But another problem arises from this. As detailed previously at UW Bathrooms, the first floor bathroom in Fisheries is atrocious! So not only are you tired and irritated from walking 25 minutes to your only class of the day, you can’t even have a good coffee-induced pee-pee time (aka CIPPT, pronounced sipped) after your lecture on fish or whatever. Combined, these two inconveniences are inconvenient enough to make a Facebook status regarding how badly your day is going and illicit multiple sympathetic comments. So where do you go pee in Fisheries? You don’t.
Less than 1/25th of the distance that you walked from your house to Fisheries for class lies a building called the Fisheries Teaching and Research Center. Viewed from Fisheries looking south, it has a big circular vent/window above the main entrance. It’s pretty hard to miss, considering it’s the only university building for seemingly miles around. Presumably because it’s in southwest South Campus, it’s underused and hardly anyone is in there, especially in the mornings. In my almost two years of compiled research, one of the models I have developed is as follows:
nb = n·b
Where nb is the number of people that access the bathrooms in any given building, n is the number of people that access the building, and b is a constant that accounts for the percentage of n that will use the bathrooms in the building over a period of time. Since Fisheries Research has a low n, and since b remains constant, we can predict that the frequency of bathroom use will be very low. There are many implications of a low nb but privacy is the biggest result of this. After the hypothesis was developed, I went to gather some research.
I had a particularly bad case of CIPPT this morning because I had consumed about a gallon of coffee as a result of feigning the effects of being awake for the 37 hours prior to falling sleeping last night. The Fisheries 1st floor unit wasn’t really cutting it for me after two weeks of continuous disappointment, so I went next door to FTR to see what was up.
The result was a virtually empty building (half the lights weren’t even on) and a near-spotless, empty bathroom at the end of the hallway. The only sign that someone used it before me was water residue on the sink counter. All in all, it was a great CIPPT. My only qualms were the lack of natural light and the fact that I had never bothered to try this building out earlier, like in sophomore year when I had a class there practically every quarter.
Also, if Fisheries Teaching and Research was renamed to Fisheries Research and Teaching, the new building abbreviation code would be FRT, which would have certainly led to it being pronounced “fart,” resulting in much mockery at the building’s expense. This means that there absolutely had to have been a moment in time where a very, very important person on the UW Board of Directors or some equivalent had to share this specific reason as to why not to call this particular building the Fisheries Research and Teaching Building. Could you have imagined the sight of a wealthy, powerful sexagenerian explaining to his/her colleagues that you can’t make the initials FRT because then everyone would call it the fart building? This totally had to have happened.