It's a little bit totes inappropes...but never fear, I've changed the lyrics: lately I've been peeing in the dark because McCurtain has an energy conservationist on the loose.
Let me provide some background on Creepy Shower Girl. This is what my roommate dubbed her from Day One, although I think her real name is Sara. She earned her moniker because of her unfortunate lack of social skills and being unable to read body language.
McCurtain is located in Cate Center (affectionately known as Cate the Crackhouse, people often ask, "oh you live in Cate? What is poverty like?") and so naturally, we have community style bathrooms. Originally I wasn't too worried about those. Those were the conditions at TCU and although it was inconvenient, I didn't despise the ordeal that came with the call to hygiene. However, at TCU, you paid heftily for clean amenities. Here? Not so much.
We have a bathtub--with suspicious looking rust rings strategically placed (I keep a wide berth), 2 showers with disease ridden curtains--I try to only touch them with my thumb and forefinger and wouldn't dream about forgetting shower shoes, and 3 stalls--it's almost a guarantee that at least one will be out of toilet paper and another has typically just been the resting place for a non-flusher.
One day I walked into the bathroom without socks or shoes. I immediately needed a double amputation.
OH and Cate Center deems this bathroom so majestic that we have to have keys to enter. Wouldn't want to share that privilege with anyone unworthy of such luxury. I lost my bathroom key for a few days last semester...I now have the bladder of champions.
Creepy Shower Girl (I'll refer to her as CSG from now on) merited that nickname from my roommate, Olivia. Olivia was trying to shower one day (in relative privacy) and when she turned her water off to get out and grab her towel CSG was standing in the common area of the bathroom. Just chillin. To this day we are unsure as to what she was doing. Brushing her teeth, organizing her lotion, meditating? It's a mystery. Olivia produced the usual throat clearing and fake coughing that would send any other person in the opposite direction when they realized what they were interfering with (get in, get out, don't linger-DUH) but CSG continued her business with no realization of those around her.
So it shouldn't have surprised anyone really when we found out she was the one flipping the lights off in the bathroom. Don't get me wrong, I like our planet as much as the next person, but I'm not fanatical about it. So turning the lights off in the PUBLIC bathroom seemed a little silly to me, but it's not a hardship to flick them on when you walk in so I suffered in silence. Until CSG took it to another level.
Olive (I call her Olive, she hates it) texted me one day in a panic, "OMG CREEPY SHOWER GIRL TURNED THE LIGHTS OFF ON ME WHEN I WAS IN THE SHOWER!!! What is wrong with her!!?!???!" It's pretty obvious when people are in the shower. The sound of water hitting the floor is kinda hard to miss. So we had 4 options. Either CSG was (1) deaf, (2) oblivious, (3) had found out what we called her and wanted vengeance, or (4) just really wanted to save the earth. 2 and 4 sounded like our best bets.
We brushed it off, joking about the close call. What if Olive had been shaving? What was an innocent shower could have transformed into a bloodbath in a second without light to guide the blade. But then I was using the restroom one day and she flipped the lights off on me. I hadn't noticed til then how dark those stalls get. We're talking low B-grade horror film darkness. I instantly wanted a nightlight and my childhood blankie. I settled for a wad of toilet paper.
And then the shower saga happened again. Olive texted me to inform me of the travesty and I decided to put an end to the inconsideracy (is that a word? Oops-no, it's not. Oh well.) of CSG. But I had to pee first. Walking into the bathroom I nearly ran into none other than Creepy Shower Girl herself! I offered a tentative please-don't-turn-the-light-off-on-me smile and locked myself in a stall.
She doesn't read smile very well.
I was pee-pee-peeing peeing in the dark! Again! (I sang that like the song in my head)
That was the last straw. And so my passive-aggressive self decided to take some action. I fashioned a sign in friendly purple highlighter and fastened it at eye level on the bathroom door. It reads:
Dear light turner-offer,
I admire your attention to conserving energy!
HOWEVER, please do so with an
awareness of those around you. I've
been plunged into darkness mid-pee or whilst showering.
Not the most fun :(
Thank you! :)
Since then, I've had only one more episode of darkness in the restroom. But I don't think it's completely safe yet. I just add a flashlight to the list of necessities needed in that bathroom order to stay A Very Lucky (and clean) Girl.