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The Mass Media

The Mass Media

The Mass Media

COLUMN: Number Two…Number Two…

Now that almost all the administrative departments have packed up their filing cabinets and Crystal light packets and joined the mass exodus to the brand-spanking new Campus Center, there really is no reason for the Quinn Administration Building to exist–well no reason except for the Graduate Admissions, Health Services, and Chancellor’s offices (and the caf on the UL, I guess), but when it comes right down to it exactly how important are those offices for a university?

…uh, exactly. Aside from pesky desk jockeys in the employ of the administration (hereby referred to exclusively as “The Man,” even though it is a collective unit comprised of both men and a few uppity womyn) the building is deserted. Okay, so there’s still an assload of people there, but by comparison to years prior, the building is in effect deserted. That’s right, kids, a building nigh-void of persons can only mean one thing: prime real estate for making BM. Because, in the long run, all you need is a little corner to do your dirty in peace, quiet, and most of all, privacy. Defecation is by no means something to be ashamed of (a maxim to which I adhere valiantly), but who among us does not know that pang of cheek-blushing embarrassment when you walk out of a stall and are spotted–discovered! Your secret is out, and that witness and anyone else knows that you were just pinching a loaf, and all those crimes against the ears and nose were your doing. Obviously, the previous statement applies only to dudes, for as we all know, members of the female contingent don’t make BM, ever. Don’t ask how, it just is. But seriously, these water closets are perfect. The stalls, not like those in that unholy McCormack building, number in the twos, sometimes the threes, which is more than enough for one person, usually. However, the WCs have a certain Marxist vibe about them, like you’d imagine The Kremlin’s toilets were back in old Joe Stalin’s time. But, I guess when you think about it, it’s not that unfitting for UMass Boston. By far the best location in Quinn is on the third floor, down a corridor near the vice chancellor’s office. There are three stalls and possibly two urinals–the stalls are made out of 100 percent stainless steel. Trés chic, n’est ce pas? There is no vandalism of any kind (at least as of Friday afternoon), plus you get to do business just like The Man: in style. I have been investigating an alleged private toilet reserved especially for Interim Chancellor Motley. At a rumored cost of $8 million, the private water closet constructed over the summer sessions is said to be a 400′ by 400′ by 400′ cube-shaped room adjoining the interim chancellor’s office, and made entirely of the finest Italian marble. It is also rumored to have a foos ball table, also made of marble. Though the latter bit seems like a blatant fabrication. But, just like my queries into the CPCS’s Hidden Toilets (the ones hidden behind a revolving bookshelf), all my investigatory-journalism efforts into Motley’s personal loo have been in vain. All those associated with The Man have so far denied the existence of this ornate water closet, most likely fearing the paperwork wrath of the The Man. My one reliable source (who for his own protection I shall refer to as Gintautas Dumcius) told me that it does indeed exist, and that he has heard noises emanating from a securely locked door that could “only come from someone playing foos ball.” But, kids, I am sad to say that our time has come to an end. “Number Two…Number Two…” must take its leave, after our short, yet tender time together. For all of my loyal readers (aka: my friends, and my mother) who have stuck with me during this three-week exposé on the power and the glory that is the UMB WC, I thank you.