Everyone knows that feeling. When you’ve ended up somewhere that you have no desire to be. It could be that you’re sober at a formal and your date has the conversational skills of R2D2. Perhaps you’re babysitting a bratty ass kid who won’t shut the fuck up and the parents have put a lock on the liquor cabinet. Or maybe you’re in the back of a cop car after getting busted for child pornography marijuana. No matter the situation, we’ve all been there. Don’t worry about it; it happens to the best of us. To aid you in your avoidance of all places horrific, I’ve compiled a list of the most monstrous atrocities geography has blasphemed Northwestern with.Tech Library
It’s either cold as shit or hot as a fucking frat party. The crowd it attracts is questionable (read: engineers and frat boizz) and the food options are pathetic (I LOVE IT WHEN TECH EXPRESS IS CLOSED AND THE VENDING MACHINE WONT TAKE MY $5). There are no outlets on the third and first floors (no you’re absolutely right tech library, no one uses laptops in this day and age!). There aren’t enough study rooms, and the few that do exist are always occupied by selfish fuckers who take up entire rooms for themselves. Dicks.
The sidewalk is so crowded that it’s impossible to achieve the optimal stride length needed to book it from Tech to Kresge. But don’t even think about biking, because you WILL clip someone’s heels and you WILL be an ass wipe. So you must shuffle along with your face scrunched up, engaged in a fruitless battle against the vicious wind. It’s practically guaranteed that you will encounter someone you know, but chances are it will be the absolute last person you want to see. It will be that creepy fucker who keeps texting you, or that guy with the salivary glad condition whom you drunkenly had the misfortune of tongue wrestling with. For the love of God don’t make eye contact.
Before you spit your drink out on your keyboard in shock, hear me out. It’s not that I don’t like coffee. I fucking love coffee more than anything that ever existed. I like my coffee black, bold, and strong (LOLOL innuendo). I prefer to brew it myself, using a French press and dark roasted beans. Which is precisely why I don’t appreciate this “Tuxedo Mocha” or “Tree Hugger” or “Funky Monkey” bullshit that Kafein has to offer. Like really, wut? I don’t understand what these drink titles mean. But since every single person ever just absolutely fucking adores Kafein, I gave it one more shot. One recent afternoon I donned my black-rimmed Ray-Bans and my best flannel shirt in preparation for an afternoon in caffeinated hipsterland. The trouble started early. I walked up to the counter and stood there like a blithering idiot trying to find a menu. JOKESONJOKES THERE IS NO VISIBLE MENU ANYWHERE. I ended up blindly ordering an espresso macchiato. It was over-priced and under-delicious. Oh gee, I’ve just turned my nose up at a place that is popular among my peers. Does that make me hipstah?
The Bobb laundry room
I just…I can’t even. It smells like a decomposed scrotum. Approximately 87% of the machines don’t work, but will take your quarters anyway. The lighting is reminiscent of a mental hospital. The air is so… moist. I would literally rather drink nothing but pickle juice for a month than spend a single unnecessary moment in this desolate suckland.
Or, as I like to affectionately refer to it as, The Mark II Lounge. The Deuce manages to combine all of my least favorite things: cab rides, fire-hazard-level crowdedness, and pricey alcohol. It literally takes all of the worst aspects of an on-campus party and makes them far away, inconvenient, and expensive. Also, the free pizza is a recipe for disaster. On one of my recent Doucey excursions I dove into that pizza like a freshman diving into a party during Welcome Week. Regrettably, I was too shwasty to remember to check if the pizza was cheese or pepperoni. One gigantic, pepperoni-filled bite later and my vegetarian self was expelling that pizza all over the Deuce floor. This behavior was heavily frowned upon. I was asked to leave. In a cab. Fuck. I hate the deuce.
So there you have it, you silly little fuckers. These places should be avoided at all costs. Take Sherman Ave instead of Sheridan Rd. Study in Deering instead of Tech. Go for months without doing your laundry. Stop pretending you’re hipster and get your stupid Latte from Norbucks. Above all, do not end up at the Deuce. If you do have the misfortune of ending up in one of these heinous places, sucks to suck. Don’t say you weren’t warned.