The best and worst places for your waste to land
Who would deny that shitting on a good toilet is as desirable as popping out a big chunk of shit? I have not yet exhausted UofT’s wide array of washrooms, but some are more memorable than others, like a fecal smell lingering on a finger… To provide some comedic insights, here are the washrooms rated based on how funny they are.
Note: due to personal limitations, only women’s and gender-neutral washrooms have been assessed.
10/10, University College basement:
Its innermost stall, sitting right next to a giant window, remains unwalled from potential peeping gazes—dysfunctional just like your childhood home. To use or not to use it, however, is never the question. The stall’s lavishly graffitied wall proves it to be a favourite among other traumatised uni kids. You will indulge your peers’ daddy and mommy issues while you anxiously shit, and entertain yourself with words from your predecessors. It is the perfect place to ruminate on existential crises and, finally, feel human. Absolutely diabolical: 10/10.
1/10, Bissell Building 1/F:
It is so clean because nobody knows it exists—just like the criminal record of my last situationship. It is spacious and bright, and has mirrors for catwalk outfit checks. Everything about it is quite perfect, except a sense of impending doom that stems from me not believing I deserve good stuff. Not a joke at all, but it gets one point for making me clown! 1/10.
9/10, Innis College basement:
Besides sinks that look like urinals, the Innis washroom hides an optical illusion. From the washroom’s innermost end, only half your body shows in the mirror, because the glass you are looking into is not the one your body is in. The half-you, however, splits into three full-yous as you walk from the stalls to the sinks. Now, just turn around to your right, and they duplicate into five! If you can’t find your other half, this is where you should go, because who needs a soulmate when you have five pieces of yourself staring back at once? There is something truly beautiful about the way this washroom disturbs the mundane and challenges reality in our absurd world, just like a banana taped on a wall. Come here to escape from social media and complete yourself. Delulu is the solulu. Comedic gold, it would’ve gotten full points if it were more deranged: 9/10.
4/10, Hart House basement (opposite Arbor Room):
This is where little white bots eat your bloodied period products. All you have to do is wave, and they rise up with their square mouths opened. It pains me that I cannot pat them for their hard work, because then the non-touch efforts for hygiene would go to waste. It pains me equally to think about where my incidental fees went to and where not. Yet, on a positive note, these lil’ guys are lovely reminders that technology can aid humans instead of replace us. Too cute for the butts that make jokes: 4/10.
5/10, Goldring Student Centre 2/F (opposite Wymilwood Lounge):
Boring but endearing, she reminds me of my inner child. Located above the first floor and a couple steps below the second, she does not know where she belongs. She stays away from the crowd, but eagerly watches minglings in the Wymilwood Lounge from a distance. Everyone forgets about her. Fortunately, there are windows by the eave that peer through the roof into the sky, so she can always raise her head and dream. She might be a clown but we should be nice to her, so she’s only getting a 5/10.
7/10, Trinity College 2/F (inside Steeley Hall):
Out of sight, just like the love of my life! Hidden in Steeley Hall at an unsuspecting corner, it seems exclusive but merely pretends to be. In reality, anyone can push past the heavy, antique doors that bar the place. Once you reach there, the toilet stall is divided up by only a small, thin piece of barn-like wood. It looks like a stable but it is not so stable. Hilarious. 7/10.
