People who shit in Gleason at peak study times are belligerent maniacs and must be stopped. I don’t know if you’re just an idiot or if you have been alienated from your basic sense of human decency by some traumatic childhood event, so I am trying to write this with as much compassion as I can dredge up, for the sake of all us God-fearing Gleason-enjoyers.
Seriously, the sole reason that UR has toilets in the men’s bathroom in Gleason is for the sake of liability and maybe — this is the one exception — for an early-morning constitutional. So unless you have shit running down your leg, you are implicitly — no, hereby explicitly — forbidden from dropping a deuce in this sacred study space between 8 a.m. and 12:30 a.m.
Please don’t think this is me asking. I’m not asking.
If you look at the numbers, by the time you’ve finished the first five minutes of this week’s Joe Rogan podcast, three to five passionate and studious souls will have their olfactories subjected to those meatballs you had from Rocky’s last night. Maybe things would be different if you ate a vegetable every once in a while, but I’m trying to be realistic here.
Please. We’re talking scientists and businessmen, international students and Rochesterians, frat boys and theatre kids — the quality of life of your fellow man is at stake. Most of all, though, you’re not living as well as you should. Don’t do it for all us decent folk. Do it for yourself. You deserve this. You deserve to shit in peace.
But hey, I hardly expect you to return to your dorm, apartment, or trap house to let it all out. No, I am a reasonable man. Instead, I’ll give a couple places you can go that will be more comfortable for everyone:
First up, Todd basement. This one is seriously fantastic, a real hidden gem. Also a bit of a dungeon, but the privacy is unmatched, and I enjoy feeling like nobody could interrupt me without some sort of skeleton key or elaborate knock. In Todd, I can be the one to flush the blue bleach in all five stalls Monday through Friday. Hey readers, me and all four of you can head down there this week and try it together. I wish I could shit in Todd Union for the first time all over again. Just another high that, it’s safe to say, everyone who’s been there is chasing.
Morey Hall is also great. Spacious, relatively private, and if you’re a STEM major like me (which you probably are) it’s nice to crash a more humanities-leaning building. I will say though that the popularity of this one seems to be rising, so to the part of you (the Gleason shitter) that derives sick, twisted pleasure from subjecting the rest of us to yesterday’s food truck, this could be a solid (or runny) compromise — definitely a more utilitarian option.
Here’s the deal, if it’s a Monday night and you have an urge, here are another few places that would surely be better for your cargo than Gleason: your roommate’s desk drawer, under Sage, at the feet of George Eastman, or in your very own pants. Something’s gotta change here, and it’s not going to be the number of Gleason users.
