I always felt bad for this stairwell.
GHC was my destination after high school, and the building where this stairwell is located (Jewell C. Manspeaker building, but everyone calls it "The 2000 building") happened to be built two years prior. There exists a twin to this set of stairs on the opposite end of the hallway.
Where it's easier to access.
Where it's nearby everything else.
Where it's constantly in-use by students and faculty.
This stairwell never had a chance. Did the clock just strike twelve? Are people buzzing to and from class? I couldn't tell you by looking at this sorry-ass of a staircase.
But, hey, the little guy has a window. Let's see what's out there.
Oh, that's Casey. The only people who walk on Casey are the smokers. However, that's more foot traffic than Blue #2 (yes, I've named it, now) gets. Sure, Casey gets the occasional tobacco-infused saliva projectile, but a foot's a foot.
It gets worse.
The other window peeks a glimpse at this magnificent hunk.
A name for this work of art eludes me. I don't wish to insult it any more than I already do--that being sliding down the left-hand rails on my cheeky rear. It's so much fun. And in my travels I've yet to find rails better at this job than these.
So Blue#2 remains forever alone, awaiting the dirty foot of a passerby to step all over it and really work their heels in and wiggle those toes and I think I just discovered I have to work out a fetish. Yeah, I guess I'll write another one of these once I get back from the Mike Pence Electro-Rock Therapy camp for 20-somethings like me questioning their sexuality WITH THE POWER OF ELECTRICITY plugged into guitars to play rock music and SHOCK YOU with killer solos. I don't know why I took it to a political place.
Blue#2 gets 4 pity-points out of 5.
Don't get me started on Cardiac Lane!