12 Days of Flogmas, Day Ten: The SciLi bathroom sitch


A long day of studying is like a long night of drinking, in the sense that you always have to pee. Between the absurd amount of water you’re consuming because you don’t have time to eat and the hourly venti lattes, urination (amongst other forms of bodily excretion) is a must. Since the SciLi is such the go-to prison cramming location, you’d think it would be able to accommodate our relentless bathroom needs. Right? Wrong. VERY, VERY wrong.

I do most of my SciLi work in the basement, which fits more people than any other floor. It also happens to have the worst bathroom situation—not only on campus, but perhaps in the world. Let me spell it out for you: there’s one female bathroom and one male bathroom (problem #1 arises: gender neutral, where are yoooouuuu?!). The bathrooms contain a sink and a single stall, in which is a single toilet.

So it appears that the SciLi basement bathroom is single-use, assuming that only one person is using the toilet at a time. Hold up… you’re catering to a room with an occupancy of 336. Only one person per gender can go to the bathroom at a time? If you’re going to make it so exclusive, you might as well put a lock on the bathroom door and call it a day. Enough with the false hope of a swinging door. If you’re only going to present us with one stall in a faux-multiperson restroom, at least make the rest of the bathroom large enough to fit the four people always waiting in line. I’m done with being slammed by a swinging door that shouldn’t even have the ability to swing. 

But you haven’t heard me shit on the SciLi bathrooms (no pun intended) until you hear me talk about what I like to call the “pooping paradigm.” Even though everyone poops, we still like to pretend that not everyone does. Let me tell you—everyone does, and they do it in the SciLi basement. Every single time I’m in line for the basement bathroom, each person in front of me poops. This isn’t a problem, and it shouldn’t be, because of course we are entitled to our natural bodily functions. Yet it still manages to become the most uncomfortable situation ever. The person in the stall knows that everyone can hear her pooping, and everyone on line knows that the person in the stall knows that they can all hear her pooping. No one knows what to do about this, so they just stand there in silence listening to someone shit. Leaving that stall after the deed is done must be comparable to a walk of shame. Of course, I’m too scared to poop in the SciLi basement, so that statement is based off of assumption.

I decided to do a little investigation of the bathrooms on other SciLi floors, hoping they would prove me and my grudge wrong. However, they too failed me. Looking like an absolute idiot, I took the elevator to every floor, got out, walked directly to the bathroom, poked my head around, and walked right back to the elevator. In case you were wondering, the second floor bathroom appears to have a swinging door… but doesn’t. What a shocker! This one actually locks! However, people obviously think this is a swinging door so they try to swing it open. This results in your having a heart attack every time someone attempts to break and enter while you’re on the toilet. If, for some odd reason, the door did open, you would be staring your intruder right in the face. Good enough reason for high blood pressure? I think so.

The third and fourth floors win the awards for nicest bathrooms (see photo below). But, like, who studies on the third floor?



The rest of the floors have bathrooms that are fake-swinging doors (i.e. heart attacks waiting to happen) and smell like port-o-potties.

In other bathroom news, this extremely convoluted sign can be seen in the Rock’s fourth floor restroom:



Images via Hannah Pasternak 17.


  1. Shy Pooper

    The key to Scili bathrooms is that you go up to the upper floors, because the swinging doors lock! And people hardly ever use them, unlike floors 0-4. Pooping privacy!

    Even though they’re super gross, whatever. Sometimes I go to the Scili, ride the elevator up to floor 8, do my business, and leave.

Leave a Reply