Ruminations on campus restrooms

A few days ago, I was using one of the College of Education’s bathrooms. Besides noticing that the male side is one of the worst designed bathrooms at UNM, I noticed that somebody had put a small tab in every single urinal that read something like, “Your teeth could be this color, the benefits of smoking,” all stark white.

I doubt they’ll stay that way, but what I find odd is that these tabs are only in the College of Education’s bathrooms. No other bathroom on campus seems to have them. I suppose this is because people who are going to be working with children get targeted because who really wants children to see their role models smoking?

Each bathroom in each building of the University has a different feel and character. The Humanities bathrooms are studded with graffiti — the most strange, obtuse quotes from books I’ve never read — while the graffiti in Dane Smith is small and unobtrusive.
In one of the Theater and Performing Arts stalls, the graffiti resembles the most hateful Internet forum.

None of it is worth quoting, but it is interesting how in this one, rundown, out of the way bathroom, words march to war in various sizes, some very large and emphatic and others small and dense, perhaps attempting to overwhelm their enemy with the sheer number of miniature f-bombs they possess.

In the art building’s bathroom, as of the time of this writing, a simplified and crude 6-foot penis dominates the space above the urinals. A third grader could have drawn it, but maybe would hesitate to have made it so big. This is what is called “low” art, I believe.

Zimmerman Library’s bathrooms are small and private. There is very little graffiti in the upper floors, as if vandals have trouble climbing stairs or are perhaps afraid of books. Popejoy’s public restrooms are spotlessly clean. A notice along the lines of “report vandalism by calling” appears every few feet. These might be the fanciest restrooms on campus. Polished surfaces, speakers to pipe in performances; Popejoy has it all.

George Pearl Hall has unearthly bathrooms, decorated with primary colors. All sharp angles, it looks ultra modern, proving one can urinate in a Cubist universe. However, Johnson Gym’s bathrooms look like they were dragged screaming from 70s. The urinals are strange, outdated shapes; there are glazed windows high up; pipes are exposed; the vents are choked with ropey gray dust; and yet there is almost no graffiti.

The Student Union Building is an adventure. You never know what you’ll find when you open those stalls. Maybe a messy toilet, maybe a clean one, maybe one covered in toilet paper because the previous occupant thought his butt was too good for the toilet seat, but not for your hands as you have to pull all the paper off.

No matter where you are on campus, there’s a toilet near you. Due to the collapsed economy, I have begun to offer “lavatory tours” for the low fee of $17.76. We will start at Johnson and end at Mesa Vista, stopping by every lavatory hotspot along the way, though I regret that I will be unable to show you the largest and dirtiest bathrooms connected to the University: the Board of Regents’ budget hearings.