I shit you not: the terrifying ordeal of being perceived
This is a call-out post to all two-stall bathrooms — specifically the ones on the second and third floor of GeoChem. I spend a lot of time in GeoChem these days, and that, of course, means spending a lot of time in the bathroom there, too.
There’s a special spot in my heart reserved for the gender-inclusive single-user bathroom on the second floor — it’s brought me much comfort when I needed a whole bathroom for my thoughts while I shit. It’s mostly quiet. The door lock clearly tells you if you’ve locked it. It’s got wifi. It’s only flaw is that it smells like shit about 70% of the time.
That bathroom isn’t always available, though — unfortunately, the “Poop Room” has high demand due to its proximity to the spaces of GeoChem and the fact that it’s a place where anyone can shit in peace. A light press on the door handle tells you if the Poop Room’s got a pooper.
Instead, I’m writing this as I shit in one of the two stalls of the third floor bathroom, and with each passing moment, I mourn for the Poop Room more and more.
If this bathroom had more than two stalls — ideally more than three — I’d be fine with this bathroom. But there’s an uncomfortable intimacy with a two-stall bathroom that makes me resent this particular bathroom — and other two-stall bathrooms — with a burning passion.
From the practical perspective, there’s nothing too terrible about this two-stall bathroom. The toilets flush. They’re usually clean. The sinks work (though they do splash). There’s even period supplies available on a cart inside. Yeah, there’s a decent gap between the stall door where you can see into and out of the stall, but that’s a pretty universal issue with most multi-stall bathrooms.
The biggest issue with two-stall bathrooms is the lack of privacy and the awkward, intimate experience. As college students at Brown, we are all-too-familiar with FOMO, but there are simply some things that are better off not being experienced, such as shitting in a two-stall bathroom.
Shitting is already such a...vulnerable part of our routines. We literally sit on a toilet with our pants down, trying to expel waste from your body, and you’ve got your guard down because you simply cannot have a good poop if your body’s too tense. Besides, why would you ever expect anything bad to happen while you’re shitting? It’s not like someone’s going to burst in and attack you. But, it can be kind of embarrassing — your rear end might make some interesting sounds and produce some noxious scents, and frankly, those are things that people don’t need to know about you.
A single-user bathroom and a many-stall bathroom provide protection from being perceived. In a single-user bathroom, you’ve got the bathroom to yourself, and any smells and sounds are contained in the bathroom. Usually. In a many-stall bathroom, people are in and out so often that each occupant becomes anonymous. So many people are doing their business that your own activity gets lumped in with the collective, and no one truly perceives you. Between that and the collective understanding that everyone entering this bathroom is making themselves vulnerable, a many-stall bathroom is pretty safe.
But a two-stall bathroom neither has the privacy of a single-user bathroom, nor the anonymity of a larger multi-stall bathroom. The best-case scenario when using a two-stall bathroom is being the only occupant, but even this is pretty terrible, because at any moment, someone might come into the bathroom, and you’re essentially speedrunning your toilet activities so that you don’t have to worry about being intruded on. It’s very anxiety-inducing, but it’s not unbearable or that awkward.
The worst-case scenario is when you’re already in the bathroom, doing your thing, and then someone comes in and they, too, have a longer visit to the bathroom. You and your neighbor are separated by only a single metal wall, one that’s painted an ugly light brown and is chipped and dented from years of use. The bathroom itself is rather small — after all, there’s a reason there’s only two stalls there. When both stalls are occupied, both occupants are painfully aware of each other’s existence and activity. You can usually see the other person’s shoes, because these stalls were built to minimize material use while still giving some privacy. At least you don’t know each other’s names and faces. Yet.
Bathroom activities aren’t quiet. Water is loud. Excretory activities are loud. Paper is loud. That distinct swish-swish of the toilet paper and the snap when you break off your piece? Anything and everything you do can and will be heard. Worse, you know that they know. Even worse, they know that you know that they know. It’s beneficial to be as quiet as possible, but there’s only so much you can do. It’s not like you can ask your toilet bowl to muffle the sounds, not when it’s built in a way that would actually amplify them. Or maybe it’s beneficial to be loud? Is this the right time to be scrolling through the twenty-thousand TikTok videos your friend sent you in the past hour? Would it break the ice between you and your Poop Pal? Should you even break the ice?
What do you do if your neighbor sneezes? Do you say “bless you?” Do you say anything at all? Do you just pretend that you didn’t hear them sneeze? You can’t pretend that you didn’t hear them, because you both know that you can hear everything that’s happening between the two stalls. What if you sneeze and your neighbor says “bless you?” It’s impolite to not thank them, but would engaging with them further be worse than the social ramifications of appearing ungrateful? At which point does it become truly unacceptable to acknowledge each other?
And what happens when you’re done? What if both of you have completed your business and need to leave the bathroom? If you leave the stall at the same time, you’ll clearly have to acknowledge each other. If you leave a little too soon after them, then you’ll run into them at the sinks. If you leave a little too soon after they’re done with the sink, you might run into them in the hallway.
Is your neighbor also doing all this mental calculus? Are they hoping you finish first? Are they letting you leave first? What do you do when you both hear the swish and snap of toilet paper from each other’s stalls? Do you acknowledge the stalemate? When should you flush? One of you just has to take a chance and hope that the goddess Fortuna is throwing you a bone. Say a prayer, and leave when your gut tells you it’s time, wash your hands, and get the hell out of there. Do not look back. Do not look back.
This already-mortifying experience is even worse when this two-stall bathroom you shit in is the very same building in which your friends and acquaintances also work, because it means that the very neighbor who heard the strangled noises you made trying to pass stool could very well be your lab partner from freshman chemistry, your TA for the class you’re desperately trying not to fail, or even worse, your professor.
The two-stall bathroom is a journey. Even if you know nothing about them, you and your neighbor have just bonded in such an intimate, unique way that will last forever. With some luck, you’ll never find out anything more about their identity.
Just don’t look down at anyone’s shoes ever again.
Image via MJ Lee ‘22
