There's a hallway in the building that I have most of my classes in that is like those big fatty aquariums at PetSmart in which 400 goldfish reside because the people are just rubbing all over each other on accident every second because it is so crowded. And looking stupid about it, as goldfish do.
All. The time.
You know how those goldfish look--very, very confused. Swimming in circles and banging into the walls sometimes. Boggling their eyes around everywhere. Sure they're meant to get somewhere eventually, but not really sure where that is, so they just keep flapping around and mooshing with each other on accident. The hall is not a zoo, but worse, an aquarium. A holding tank. Bursting. As though nobody ever gets out the ends to the bathrooms and elevators. As though the ends of the hallway are narrowed, which they aren't. It's full to the brim, especially now that coats and scarves and hats and snoods (OK there are no snoods) and boots and mittens and earmuffs and even-heavier-backpacks are mixed into the soup.
If you attend BYU, I am talking about the north hallway in the basement of the JFSB. I do write about the JFSB a lot, because I am always in it.
Throughout your progression down this hallway, you're likely to get wiped in the face accidentally by about three different mittens if you're short, leaving you with a mouthful of fuzz. Or you'll be sorely hip or boob-checked by the tops of books poking out of short girls' shoulder bags, if you're tall like me. Ow. Your heel will be clipped twice, and your toes stepped on at least a half a dozen times. You will simultaneously smell lasagna, hot tupperware, breath, stale gum, books, string cheese, and the insides of nalgenes. You'll trip over at least three pairs of irritating legs jutting at odd angles from the walls, and see ten people you know, only four of whom you can come up for air long enough to say hi to. I've considered bringing goggles into this mix, only I know that the many who breathe through their mouths would fog them up.
Maybe a snorkeling mask.
This morning, late as usual, I crept down the steps, as usual, and entered this hallway, as usual. I was over ten minutes late this morning, which is even LATER than usual, and I whipped 'round the corner to this hallway, wrapping my scarf tightly in order to avoid snagging individuals I'd soon be rubbing against, ducking with my hood over my head, bending my knees and shooting my arms out to launch myself into the crowd I am ready for each morning.
But there was nobody there. Not one person. Not ONE. I thought it was a lie.
You're all jolly good fellows for getting to class on time this morning, because I cranked up my music and shook my booty down that block-long hallway to my class.
Who knew shaking it on campus was so liberating? Do you guys shake it on campus?
Why didn't anybody tell me?