In the Age of Enlightenment, great philosophers would sit and ponder reality at classical French cafés. The likes of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Voltaire and Denis Diderot would debate and discuss all manners of creative, intellectual and thought-provoking topics. The café was the epicenter of deep theoretical thoughts, and the heart of a democratic movement. Today, philosophy and socialization may not occur in French cafés, but in the new hub for revolutionary discussion: the residential dorms’ communal bathroom.
Coming to college for the first time, I heard many of my peers lament their fears of sharing communal toilets, showers and sinks with others for an entire school year. There is validity to this concern; from a germaphobe’s perspective, the prospect of sharing space with a multitude of others is not a pleasant one. And the bathroom is certainly not a place I would like to spend much of my day. But one must calm their fears, as the fluorescently lit, white and sterile space is the perfect place for communication and the jumping off point for forming bonds.
The floor lavatory is the only space on a dorm level that is designated for just the people on your floor and no one else. It is the lobby of the video game that is floor chaos. Unintentionally, it was built for congregation. No one has ever intentionally planned to meet a person in the bathroom, and so water closet conversations always begin out of pure boredom or chance with the most random assortment of people. Furthermore, no one plans who they meet in the bathroom, and that is what makes the space so beneficial to our growth. The countless chats I have had at 1 a.m. with my potentially inebriated peers and floormates have made way for unexpected yet extremely silly and lucid experiences.
On one single occasion, I fraternized with two other people named Alex while brushing my teeth! The two have never been in my room, and I have never been in theirs, but our practically forced encounter sparked a newfound friendship. Now, when I see my name-twins on and outside of the floor, I can say hello, chat for a while and feel a deeper sense of belonging on the floor I’ll be living on until we pack up for summer. It’s vital to know and have a connection with the people on your dorm floor.
It’s perfectly normal to want to be introverted and enjoy your time alone in the dorm listening to music or working. I am not arguing against that. What I do believe is that to feel like a lonely island when your floor is an archipelago of fascinating and wonderful people is not pleasant. For the folks who feel a little lonely, don’t camp the bathroom (that would be strange), but don’t fear the people inside it either, because those people want to get to know you; they are literally your neighbors. As Jim Morrison said, “People are strange when you’re a stranger.”
When you begin to know your floormates, and as they become your friends, their intoxicated ramblings at 3 a.m. make for a philosophy class not even Descartes could teach. Truly, there is nothing more incredible than the prose of a delusional friend, and this more often than not occurs in the bathroom because — as it tends to happen sometimes — they will be throwing up in one of the stalls. So, as much as the restroom is a space for fraternizing, it is also an area for top-notch entertainment.
To go a step further, one can also make great conversation with their entire dorm in the laundry room, where the same logic of the bathroom applies: it’s a space to meet people at random, introduce yourself to someone new and make a friend.
So, to all who have made it this far, do not fear the bathroom. Instead, embrace the absurdity of the events that could occur inside it. Make conversation with strangers because, who knows, they may just be your next best friend.