This article was originally published in 2019 as part of The College Moan, a previous iteration of satire at Conn. You can check out this and other Moan articles here!

As you glance behind your shoulder to make sure no one is looking, your palm settles on the cold delicate handle, sending a chill up your spine. First try: it’s locked. “FUCK” you exclaim under your breath, as you walk back to the homework you haven’t touched in hours, due to the social community you’ve created surrounding your seat on the first floor. As your bladder struggles to hold the dirty Conn water they promise has been tested, you sit back down at your seat. The familiar creek of the door opening makes you perk up. The moment has come, but some garbage second floorer (who happens to be passing by to get to the stairs) decides to go in first. Your head sinks and you let out a disturbing moan that makes no one look up from their work. You hear the creek again, and slowly raise your head. No one is there. But the creek…? 

You sprint towards the door, knowing you must have missed their exit. The dreamy handle sits there begging for you to grab it and release what it knows is inside. The handle gives. You enter the dark abyss of that section in between the actual bathroom and the door to get into the bathroom (why it exists? No one knows). You dramatically fling the second door open to make this (pretty) natural experience seem more exciting (since nothing in your life is really exciting anymore: you have 6 papers due tomorrow, JA is now strictly cold food, your crush stopped looking at you a couple days ago, and you’ve eaten 5 Blue Camel muffins in the last hour).

But as no one expects, and as you would have never dreamed in your worst nightmare, there they are. Those two lingering feet underneath the stall door. You’ve done it. You’ve walked in on someone in the first floor bathroom. It is a moment of madness, guilt and shame. This outcome is completely their fault; they’ve proven illiterate (the sign on the inside door is hard to miss), and you will now suffer from this trauma for the rest of your days at Conn. Head sunk, bladder full, you decide to try the shitty Blue Camel bathroom (which for some reason has a fucking bench inside).

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