By “Little John” Flusher
Mary Fisher Main Floor: ★ ½
It has long since been customary for one to require some sort of reading material to accompany them on particularly long trips to the loo. In decades passed, the frequent choice of entertainment was the daily paper. With the advent of the modern day telephone, that practice has faded into obscurity. However, it has become no less important for one to be educated in the variations of restroom quality, so that one can make the vanguard selection for location to do said business. With that in mind, we have taken it upon ourselves to present to you, dear reader, our rankings of the most proper, and the most horrid, of all the restrooms on this fine establishment’s property, so that you may have the best bathroom experience possible.
The bathroom located within the dining hall’s main floor is, to be blunt, abhorrent. This bathroom is, perhaps, the most used depot on this humble campus, as the dining hall is a place of popular convergence. It is frequented at times between classes for most pupils, leading to a call to eject the bowels while located in these halls. This means that privacy in this water closet is nearly impossible to achieve; even on the rare occasion that a tourist may be the only one in the loo, there will most certainly be chatter and noise from dining hall patrons who are returning dishes. One can expect to feel very insecure about their shelter in this toilet.
To compound the issue, this bathroom is remarkably miniature. It only contains three stalls, which is abysmally low for the amount of foot traffic the eatery brings to the area. Additionally, one of the stalls contains a broken door – it is tilted off its hinges, and therefore does not close properly. The particularly bold and endeavoring user may take the plunge, so to speak, and use this stall despite the risk, but for the more cautious user, it simply becomes unusable. This means that the chances one will have to wait before they can properly evacuate are high; the bathroom cannot be counted upon in a dire emergency situation. Handicap availability, too, is limited. Though the bathroom has a handicap stall, it is located around a tight corner, and, as a result of the aforementioned lack of stalls, it is often occupied by able-bodied persons, putting the handicapped user in quite an imposition.
The bathroom only has one sink, and it is motion controlled. These two factors here result in a drastic reduction of points for this bathroom, as one must not only wait to properly clean, but also then wrestle with the challenge of maintaining water flow as they maneuver the cleaning process. Due to the food-adjacent location of this loo, cleanliness becomes paramount, and yet it is incredibly challenging. Additionally, one notices an alarming lack of paper towels; conservative estimates put the odds of an absence of paper towels upon visit at a likelihood of at least forty percent. If a poor soul happens to be so unlucky as to have no towels, they are forced to use the air dryer, which is disturbingly cold, and leaves the user with a chilly, unpleasant feeling to cap their displeasing experience. The presence of toilet tissue, at least, can be generally counted upon.
On grounds of size, accessibility, cleanliness, and privacy, we rate the Mary Fisher main floor bathroom one and a half stars, a low ranking for a horrendous place.