Not gonna lie, I’m pretty pumped to write the review for this partic­u­lar restroom. A couple things first. One, the site’s been getting more and more recom­men­da­tions for both good and hilar­i­ously bad bath­rooms, so we’ll start using a couple of those to close out the year. We like the feed­back so keep it coming. Two, if you want to submit your own review, email it to uwbath­room­s@g­mail.­com and if the High Coun­cil deems it worthy, you’ll get some air time. Don’t bitch at us if we don’t post it too. Go make your own blog and post what­ever shit you want there. On to the review.

There’s two physics build­ings on campus next to one anoth­er, but to clar­ify to those that are sane enough to avoid taking physics class­es, this is the one with the big pendu­lum on the ground floor. It’s also the further east one if you have a compass and/or a reason­able sense of direc­tion. You walk in and there’s just this ridicu­lous pendu­lum swing­ing around. It’s to demon­strate some sort of phenom­enon explained by momen­tum and veloc­ity and an assort­ment of coef­fi­cients, most like­ly. I person­ally hate physics so I could care less. Moving on!

The easi­est way to get down the base­ment is the spiral stair­case right under the pendu­lum. Go down that and bath­rooms are on the right. Before you open the door, observe the auto­matic door button at waist-level. You thought that shit was only at the entrances into Allen Library, huh? I thought so too. Legend has it that they were installed for Stephen Hawk­ing if he ever graced the build­ing with his pres­ence and he had to pinch one off. Except he’s in a wheel­chair so I have no idea how that works.

This bath­room is nice right off the bat. Not that many people were there, although it was about five minutes after classes started so that’s under­stand­able. It also lacks asbestos, which won me over instant­ly. Like your usual base­ment bath­room, it’s window­less, but refresh­ingly well-l­it. I had to poop so I found the stalls in the room next to the sink area. I counted no less than five stalls running paral­lel to a seem­ingly endless line of sparkling Chinese imported porce­lain urinals. You talk about living the high life, your dream house in Malibu would be incom­plete with­out at least one of those bad boys in every room. Mad Mike from Pimp My Ride would put one in your trunk if he could, because they’re just that good. They were so allur­ing I was about to take my shit in the urinal.

Really though, the weak­est part about this restroom is the toilet paper. This isn’t even the fault of this partic­u­lar bath­room, all the stalls at UW have the same awful toilet paper. TP can make or break a good dump, and unfor­tu­nately it broke my spirit a little when I real­ized there was only the shitty kind to be had. Why people don’t real­ize this, I don’t know. You think you’re being all frugal and penny-pinch­ing getting the cheap shit, but people just think you’re a prick for getting that stuff. Toilet paper is one of those things where it’s not worth buying the generic stuff. You gotta go name-brand status. It’s not a matter of think­ing, “My asshole has earned to not be gashed open by wood fiber­s,” you need that shit. You deserve that. At all times. It should be a Consti­tu­tional amend­ment, and yeah, it’s that neces­sary. Fuck that Alaskan Airlines spon­sor­ship, we should be play­ing in Charmin Arena.

Real talk, when your toilet paper is the worst part of the bath­room expe­ri­ence, you’ve found a keep­er. After I washed my hands in a sink that provided just the right temper­a­ture of hot water, I turned around and found even more beau­ti­ful urinals. I was one of the few times in my life where an amenity included qual­ity and quan­ti­ty. And it was clean, which means that not a whole lot of people use it, prob­a­bly because it’s tucked in a corner of the campus (right along the Burke). This one is one of the true hidden gems I have uncov­ered so far. If you’re ever in the area, defi­nitely consider it as one of your go-to spots.