You’re walking down the hallways of Healey or grabbing those final heavenly puffs before you trounce into class five minutes late wreaking of nicotine, and suddenly it hits you: you gotta go, to borrow from the vernacular. This isn’t the measly Number One affair, it’s Number Two, and you’re in the big leagues now, kiddo: no prisoners and no second chances. The Green Apple Two-step, Chiang Kai-shek’s Revenge, the TP-Marathon, whatever your euphemism of choice, there will come a time when you need to pinch a loaf on campus but are far far away from the comfort and security of home-base. It’s a problem that we all have to face, day after day, week after week, for the entirety of our lives. It is the great equalizer, and nobody is immune from the all-humbling BM (unless you’re of the female sex, in which case you excrete only potpourri and rose petals from out your backside, so none of this applies to you, you flawless and steaming pile of feminine grace).

Now, some may cringe at the very thought of “doing business” in some horrid public convenience, where the seat is always sticky from Lord-knows-what, or the locks don’t work on the stalls, or the traffic of people going in and coming out from the restroom befuddles the concentration, thus preventing one from attaining nirvana of the bowels. So, for those who are not “in the know,” we shall provide this column as a public service for all those in need of defecating on-campus but aren’t sure where to go. This week, the Mass Media is proud to present the Campus Center Water Closets.

The new Campus Center is loaded to the hilt with the vanguard of everything from plush cushioned loungers, to marble floors so shiny you could in all probability eat off of them (though the Mass Media does not encourage or condone any such activities. Should anyone eat off the Campus Center floors they do so at their own risk and cannot hold the Mass Media responsible for any health or psychological complications that may be a result of the aforementioned acts of deviant dining, etc.). But a good water closet (that’s WC for short, kids) is always hard to find, even inside such elaborate/expensive architectural endeavors as our own dear Campus Center.

Throughout the C.C. there are many fine conveniences, enough of them to pick and choose at leisure which WC is worthy of your stool–God bless America, eh? But, be forewarned, you, the consumer, must furnish your own reading materials: alas! the Bolsheviks and hippies (foolish little hippies) have not yet plastered the walls and doors of every stall in every WC housed in the new Campus Center with their amusing über-left wing propaganda (all on recycled paper, of course); because the WCs are so new and all, the janitors diligently patrol the graffito and flier action that would otherwise go un-thwarted at other UMB restrooms and generally provide the student body with adequate diversion for their gastrointestinal feats. So, if you were looking forward to squeezing one out in the Campus Center while reading another “BUSH LIED” leaflet, no dice, so save that Metro from the morning commute, because you never know when you may need it.

Generally, all the Campus Center restrooms are immaculate, like a Virgin impregnated by the seed of God, but in the form of varying water fixtures and a soothing almost pastel ambience seldom found in WCs, especially those at UMass Dorchester. Remember Trainspotting? I sure do. Good. Remember the “Worst Toilet In Scotland”? Yep. Excellent, so then imagine the exact opposite of that horrid place.

There is a general rule of thumb for picking a WC to call home, and that rule is proximity. As in, proximity to the main entrance of the building, or proximity to a café or dining area. For some, the ideal water closet is one seldom used by the teaming filthy masses that you, for some reason, find yourself distinguished from (arrogant little swank, aren’t you?). So in accordance with the law of proximity, all immediate WCs are ruled out in favor of those that are not available to instant access from high traffic areas such as entrances and exits–but should you be in dire need, the closest toilet is often the best and the only one for you. Here’s some advice on how to handle those photo-finish BMs: use the handicap toilets. No need to feel guilty; there is no reason for you to suffer the humiliation of a common toilet bowl.

That’s a slave mentality, so pay it no bother and pinch thy loaf in peace. But, seriously now, the jolly thing about these handicap stalls is that their benefits are threefold: First, they are convenient. Second, they are seldom used. Third, they provide privacy. In fact, many of the new Campus Center handi-bowls are even housed in their own private rooms within the WC, ideal for the shameful acoustic and olfactory embarrassments of the Green Apple Two-step and other curses of the bowels. So grab your Metro, light a match or two, and bombs away, my brave WC warriors.

Next week: The Hideaways of Wheatley Hall…