Note to the well put together blond in the stairwell on the way down to the women's bathroom:
A stairwell is not a private phone booth. You must learn this and learn it well. It is apparant that you do not believe this to be true as I encounter you at least twice a week on my sojourn to the commode. You are always engaged in a hushed, tense conversation, possibly angry, possibly annoyed. Now this would not even phase me if it weren't for the look I always receive from you. I get the angry fish eyed glare as if I just stumbled into your dorm room to find you masturbating to Men's Fitness magazine.
Please make a note of it.
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