This year is my first year living off-campus with my best friend Emily and our friend Alex. We all met during our first freshman Ohio University weekend fanfare and were excited to move in together.
The idea struck me as fantastic. I was a big fan of Three’s Company once upon a time and I saw my new living situation as a spin-off—one like Frasier, a successful spin-off ofCheers and not like Joey, a failed attempt at cashing in on the Friends hype.
On the beloved 70’s sitcom, though, the writers seemed to have neglected some gender differences in the script. Like in the bathroom. I don’t recall Janet, Chrissy, or one of the other replacement blondes yelling at Jack to put the toilet seat down.
Here are few blunders that I’ve encountered when two girls attempt to share one small bathroom with a boy:
The Toilet:
“I’m doing better,” said Alex, and I agree. If we can break him of the habit of leaving the seat in the upright position then someday I’m expecting a “thank you” from his future wife. In the meantime, the seat finds itself vertical at times and so with a daring pinky finger, I tilt it just enough so that it falls, making a loud clash with the porcelain toilet bowl. I always hope my early morning passive aggressive bang doesn’t wake Emily.
Then there’s the other dilemma. As much as we girls try to pretend that we only use the toilet to vomit and tinkle, there’s the inescapable truth that we can produce some fairly foul odors as well. Going to the “bathroombathroom,” as Emily whispers it with fear that her boyfriend might hear down the street, is a fact of life. But it doesn’t mean I like to leave that fact as smelly evidence. It’s just embarrassing. Plus, I feel like I’m violating the number one secret we girls try so hard to keep…we poo.
The Sink:
Chin whiskers are like clothes. Why do girls have all those clothes? Where do they even come from? One confused girl might ask the same question of chin whiskers. I am that confused girl. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind a well-maintained scruff and I do applaud the end of No Shave November. Both are activities that require a razor, shaving cream and the bathroom sink. But who knew that every single tiny hair clings to the sink like a magnet to a fridge? Plus, there are about a zillion that fall off in one shave.
It’s almost like having a dog that sheds – you never know exactly where it all comes from, but I can confirm where it all goes. I stare at the scattered stubby strands before I brush my teeth. I used to dip my head in close to the water, but now I just wipe my mouth on a towel. Washing my face? That’s better left to a shower rather than risk coming too close to the abandoned whiskers. I used to clean the pesky hairs with wipes every time they appeared. I wondered if Alex thought this action occurred by magic, because he never got the hint to tidy after himself. I gave up, but then Emily became obsessed with cleaning them away and now even the cleanest person I know has surrendered.
The Shower:
Our shower is small, so small that the very act of shaving my legs contorts me into a pretzel. Two weeks ago, I overestimated the width and hit my head on the water knob when I went to stand erect. The shower is where we win, I think. Basically, Alex isn’t a fan of Emily’s thick hair that gets caught in the drain. I’m not either and am glad she cleans them out regularly, but once she forgot and it was nice to know that for revenge of the seat and the whiskers, we can gross him out too.
Also, over the summer, I began to notice that my shampoo was disappearing quicker than normal. Following my Harriet the Spy days, I did some detecting in the form of placing the shampoo bottle with the words up right. With only Alex and me dwelling there, I concluded that only he could be responsible for turning the words right side down.
Once he even boasted that he had never bought his own shampoo. I would like to laugh and congratulate him on his skillful collegiate mooching except that it’s a little different when it’s your Herbal Essence being pilfered. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash and shaving cream now all reside in my room and I definitely regret giving my shower caddy away at the end of last year.