It is time to debunk the myth that communal bathrooms are the epitome of evil.
I know what you’re going to say. I mean, sure, I won’t deny the fact that communal bathrooms possess the reputation of being a tad dirtier than private bathrooms; but then again, with communal bathrooms I’ve got a community that all shares in its cleaning. With a private bathroom, on the other hand, I’ve got to rely on myself solely for that task, and is that really the more reliable route? I’m going to be lazy by myself to clean my own bathroom, so why not be lazy with a bunch of other lazy people who can use their communal laziness to inspire productivity? It makes sense, I promise.
Communal bathrooms allow me to have small talk while brushing my teeth, which usually consists of a mumbling gargle of words followed by a response of “Whaaaa you sayinn?,” followed by a “Nevamiiind,” followed by a spit. You know, just your average philosophical conversation. There’s also that underlying competition which no one speaks about of who’s going to brush their teeth the longest. I don’t know about everyone else, but brushing my teeth alongside someone else brings out the competition in me like no other action can. I can 100% guarantee that my teeth are cleaner now after having used a communal bathroom for the past 3 months.
Then there’s also the element of showering. Being separated from another naked body by only one thin shower curtain really makes me cognoscent of how much space I need while showering. Bending over too far to shave my legs has the potential to result in the grave consequence of moving the shower curtain one inch too far; this only needed to happen once for me to learn to readjust my spacial awareness level. Additionally, showering in a small space strengthens my knowledge of physics as I readjust the contents of my shower caddy in order to balance it on the little half-shelf attached to the wall. If I take my shampoo out of the side closest to the wall, I’ve gotta replace it with my body wash in order to keep the same side-to-mass ratio for prevention of everything falling to the floor in a soapy mess. Sounds to me like this whole strengthening spacial awareness and balance thing not only gets my body clean, but my mind as well. Take that, huge private shower spaces!
I never know what exactly to expect when I walk into the communal bathroom in my 4E section of Jewett, considering I live on the one coed floor. I’ve walked in multiples times to see people dancing to their own beat boxing in the mirror; I’ve seen a full on hair-salon set up with dorm chairs and all; I’ve seen my silly guy friends threatening to (and then actually) take each others’ clothes while the other is in the shower. Although, my favorite experience in the bathroom thus far occurred one fateful night when the power went out; roughly 20 minutes following the beginning of the outage I walked into the pitch black bathroom to hear desperate voices calling “Who’s there? Someone help us!” After verbally enlightening them of my identity, these three boys asked me to shine my phone flashlight in the shower area. Incidentally, they had “gotten stuck in the shower” because when the lights went out they were unable to find their towels and clothes. As they profusely thanked me for “saving their lives” I just laughed and laughed and mentally noted that I have a wonderfully hilarious set up here with this special bathroom in this special 4E section.
So yes, you do get more privacy with a private bathroom, as you would expect. However, with a private bathroom, you don’t get to do all the fun things that communal bathrooms bring to you, like having philosophical toothbrush conversations, bending in more efficient ways, playing seesaw with your caddy, having dance parties with your friends, or saving people’s lives. Plus, if you don’t have an audience, what’s the point in singing in the shower?