Ramblings of an Awkward Turtle

For some reason, I enjoy spending one Saturday of each month giving college bound seniors and their families a tour of the place I currently call home. I like to think I’m a pretty likeable tour guide. I’m bubbly, engaging, and constantly smiling. I’ve received a decent amount of compliments from satisfied families. This last time, I found that some parents are just never satisfied.

As we were waiting at the main desk for the families to start to trickle in, a lanky guy in a purple full body spandex suit nonchalantly strolled in. Please note that if this ever happens to you, it is incredibly hard to stifle sniggers and it is socially tolerable if you let a few out. Nobody is perfect. Imagine absurdity somewhat like this: 

So we stood there, tour guides and purple man. As I greeted the incoming families, purple man decided this was the prime time to pop a squat next to one of the moms. He then proceeded to accent what I was saying with spastic arm movements and clapping. The parents must have thought, “What a spirited school! Such an adorable, happy little mascot. Sugar and rainbows!” These thoughts would immediately leave whenever I started the tour and purple man darted down the hallways and proceeded to pelvic thrust in my doorway. It was at this point when the father of this group began to hate my entire being and doubt his choice of allowing his daughter to come here.

I’m not sure what it is, but there is something about dads and dorm bathrooms. It drives my dad nuts that he can’t use the public bathroom in my dorm because it’s always locked. He’d rather wait than use the one in my room. I thought he was just ridiculous about the whole concept. I now know there is worse.

After leaving my room, we passed by one of the public bathrooms and the barrage of questions began. 

“Can anyone use those bathrooms?”
“Yes, but they’re generally locked, so you have to get a key from hall desk if you need to use it.”
“Why is it locked?”
“I’m not really sure why. It’s not a major deal since every room has its own bathroom and if you ever need it, you just go to the hall desk and get the key.”
“What if someone’s in the bathroom and my daughter has to go? Can you use your key to get into it? I just don’t see why have a bathroom that’s not functional.”
“She could always go to someone else’s room and ask to use theirs. Honestly I’ve never had this as a problem. I’m really not sure if my key can open it or not. I’d have to ask.”

At this point, I attempt to move our tour onwards but alas, he was still unhappy about the bathrooms. He asked me if I had my key so I could try it in front of him to which I told him no as I slid the key bulge in my pocket out of view. It was obvious that he was extremely disappointed with me and had lost all hopes for a competent tour guide who could answer his questions. This was great for him, because I’d be unable to answer his next question.

There are always programs being put on by the various houses and they advertise them with fliers. We passed one of these fliers advertising a “Pants Party” with Steve Carell’s character from Anchorman. Of course he would see this and ask about it in that all you college kids do is have gratuitous amounts of sex tone of voice. I honestly had no more clue about it than what the poster said. He was unimpressed. In his eyes, I was trying to hide the fact that my dorm hosts orgies.

These minor set backs were not going to keep me from showing this family all that my dorm and my school has to offer. What better way to show him that we are a respectable university with mature students than to have him go by the bulletin board of facts of sex and guys which is conveniently located to one of the exit signs:

I could feel his look of disapproval and hate searing into the back of my head as we walked on past.

One of our lasts stops on the tour was the kitchenette. The mother and daughter thought it was nice. Dad was—surprise—completely dissatisfied. He inquired about how well students cleaned up after themselves in it. I assured him that the students were pretty responsible and there hadn’t been any issues. I could have been speaking in Wingdings. He was too preoccupied with the alcohol safety bulletin board next to the kitchenette.

“Kids don’t come in here at 2, 3 in the morning trashed and make big messes?”
“I have not heard of that happening.”
“I doubt that.”

I could not win with this guy. It dawned on me that the only place of education that this man would be fully satisfied to send his daughter to would be a convent because any other place, especially my school, would corrupt her. 

At this point, he disappeared somewhere and I used this time to ask his wife and daughter if they had any questions about the dorm, college, and life. Theirs were lacking in the rage and loathing so it was a pretty pleasant time. When he finally appeared again, he had a smirk on his face. He had went and tracked down someone and had them attempt their key in the bathroom and found that it did would not open it. Congratulations sir, you found the answer to the biggest concern of my life. Thank goodness we had you to find that out.

As we concluded our tour back at the hall desk, I asked them if they had any last minute questions before their depart. He did. He asked one of the hall directors a question he had asked me earlier. Turns out, I was wrong and an instant look of smugness and demonic joy appeared on his face. He finally had his definite proof that I was the most incompetent tour guide to ever exist. However, this was no comparison to the look of rejoice I had on my face as I waved them goodbye as they left.