Chairs are not Toilets

Few phrases in the English language have been spoken so poetically. It seems strange to think that one would ever have the need to utter such a slogan aloud. I mean, who would ever confuse the purpose of such items? Odd as it may seem friends, such a time presented itself one early spring morning in April of 2004 in Alumni Hall.

It was Spring Weekend at the University of Connecticut. A weekend typically characterized by drunken adolescent masses doing drunken adolescent activities. Where student accomplishments are quantified not with grades, but hangovers. Usual scenery includes naked coeds playing volleyball, bonfires made from couches, and upside-down burning cars. A place where dreams become Red Bull-vodka induced realities and Poly Sci-105 lab partners become one-night stands. A place where staircases become obstacle courses and non-English speaking math TA’s become beer pong partners. A place where empty kegs become bowling balls and parking lots become discos. Yes, Spring Weekend truly is a place where anything is possible; where even the simplest of desk chairs can become the most elaborate of toilets.

It was early Sunday morning. I had just spent last night combing the campus with a love interest of mine, Sharon. It was a great night and I was in high spirits. We sealed our adventure together with a kiss in the janitor’s closet. Promises were made, but not kept, and she turned out to be a weirdo. Outside, I could see the stars shining over the Nathan Hale Inn. I was balls deep in pillowness, enjoying the comfort of my own bed and dreaming the good dreams of youth and irresponsibility. I was completely unaware of the horrors that lay ahead.

As it often does, my body jostled itself awake about an hour and a half in. Angry and tired, I decided to initiate the rollover method in hopes of returning to slumber. After a quick yawn, I began my turn. That is when it happened. The next thing I know I am face to face with head of a complete stranger. I did a double take to make sure I wasn’t imagining things, but sure enough there she was. The head of an unknown female; slightly freckled with long brown hair. I gasped at the site, rolled back in the opposite direction and mistakenly fell out of my bed. After bumping my noggin on the carpet, I stood up and began a more detailed assessment of the situation.

• Inner monologue: Who is this person? She doesn’t look familiar; do I know her? Was I drunk last night; what was I doing? Fuck, I hope I didn’t… think dammit! Think! Wait, you weren’t drunk stupid, you were with Sharon last night. Alright…then who the fuck is this girl and what is she doing in my bed?

I decided I needed help. Linahan, my top bunk roommate, looked useless at the time so I ran across the hall to Joe and Sean P’s room. Joe never drank so he would be of sound mind. I knocked while entering and Joe popped up. After a brief attempt from Joe to quiz me on my date with Sharon, I quickly informed him of the situation happening in my room. Upon hearing my explanation of awakening to a random stranger sharing my pillow, Sean P quickly became wide eyed and sober.

The three of us swiftly exited their room and returned to mine. But before we could enter, Linahan motioned us with a wave to stay put. He then quietly dismounted from his bed but avoided the usual chair as a step-down device, which at the time I found very odd. He met us at the door and began his explanation of last night’s events.

• Linahan: OK. Bear with me. So last night, we all got back at what… like 3 Joe?
• Joe: Yeah.
• Linahan: OK, so I was fucking hammered, and you were still out with Sharon, so I crashed. Next thing I know, I wake up to this hissing noise. I can hear it coming from your desk so I look down and see a figure standing there. I grabbed my glasses to make out who it is… and I see this girl’s head. I can’t see her whole body yet, just the head, but I still hear this weird noise. So I sit up and lean over… and there is our girl, pants around her ankles, full squat, PISSING on your desk chair.

All three of us burst into laughter as we examine the soaking wet fabric of my once urine-free computer chair.

• Linahan: But I wasn’t sure if this girl was the same girl you were with last night, so I didn’t want to say anything, you know. Then she looks up at me, clearly blitzed from the look on her face… and I’m like, “Um…you good?” Then she smiles, zips up, crawls over your body and falls asleep next to you in your bed.

We are at full tears at this point. After about 2 minutes of pointing and laughing as if we were on that safari ride at Great Adventure, it was clear that something had to be done. It was time to wake the unidentified female pisser. When a tap on the shoulder wouldn’t do, I gave her the old shoulder shake until I saw an iris peek through the lashes. She came to and to our surprise was very calm. I began the questioning.

• Me: Hi. My name is Sean, I live in this room. Who are you?
• Unidentified Female Pisser: (Semi drunk gibberish).

We are now, the four if us, laughing directly in this girl’s face. You could see her eyes widen and her demeanor changed instantly. This pisser was now fully awake and no doubt completely baffled as to what was going on.

• Me: (Still laughing) So yeah, we’re gonna have to ask that you leave now.
• Linahan: Yeah; not that we didn’t enjoy the visit. Although there was an issue with the chair.

Clearly embarrassed, the pisser quickly gathered her belongings and vacated my room. We followed her into the hall where word had was spreading (courtesy of Joe and his texting) throughout the floor. The unidentified female pisser then began a string of door knockings, all of which were greeted by a quick laugh and a slam in the face. After her fourth or fifth failed attempt she began to cry. Her quest for clarity was becoming hopeless. You almost felt bad for her… almost.

The four of us made our way into the men’s room, cackling like hyenas, when I heard the sound of a phone ringing from my room. I sprang up from the bathroom floor and ran toward the sound. When I found a strange phone between my sheets, I wanted desperately to answer it myself and do a quick hang-up in hopes of letting the mayhem ensue. But I decided to give a dog a bone. I returned to the hall and found her huddled in the corner, tears a droppin’. I gave her the still ringing cell and she thanked me as she answered the call.

• Unidentified Female Pisser: Hello, Jen? Jen… oh my god, thank god. Where are you? I don’t know where I am. I woke up and.. Uh huh… the stairs… OK, I’m coming down now.

And so with her only piece of the puzzle in place, the unidentified female pisser began her fated walk of shame down the hallway toward the stairs… and Linahan was there to meet her.

• Linahan: Listen, before you go. There is something you should know.

She gazed into his eyes and he into her’s. Maybe he is going to tell me how I got here and solve everything for me; maybe it has all just been a big joke - these, among others, are just some examples of what thoughts might have been lurking in that fragile brain of her’s while staring into Linahan’s baby blue eyes. He opened the stairwell door for her and offered this complete stranger a final piece of advice.

• Linahan: Chairs… are not toilets.