The infamous Tuesday night was like no other. I had stopped in at Loaf n’ Jug and purchased two of its finest Monster energy drinks, and I posted up in the new STEM Building.

I was working hard on some Chemistry II when Nature called. Dashing through the door and out of the computer cluster I went, unbeknownst to me, into a politically correctness mess.

The new STEM building was outfitted with none other than a brand new gender-neutral bathroom. I was shocked, mouth agape, as I wandered into the bathroom and into the 21st century.

I like to picture myself as the self-titled voice of North Dakota State (my plaque is still in the mail). I feel like it is my duty to report fully how my experiences went.

I will spare some details for decency sake, but I will give you the truth, my opinion and maybe, at the end of the day, insight, an insight into the audacity that is gender-neutral bathrooms.

Back to that fateful night. Like Captain Smith of the Titanic, I went at full walking pace to find the nearest restroom. Ahead, on my port side, I saw her, I screamed, “Equality!”

My values had no time to get in my way, though. I had to use the restroom. I asked myself in a panic, “Erik are you ready for this?”

I responded confidently, “Yes. This is the only bathroom I can comfortably reach.”

Though my passive attitude had gotten me this far, I was reminded of what was in store for me behind that door.

Hell, for sure.

I would undoubtedly find a person who identified as “transgender.” There was most likely going to be children crying because they saw a person of an opposite gender in a public place.

Most likely, a man in a trench coat would be holding a sign reading “Free Shows.” Nobody wants to see that show.

I would be lying if I didn’t say I was terrified. I was a mess with all of my fear and assumptions.

I opened the door and was subsequently let down. It was a common loo boys and girls. All I found was a porcelain toilet, a sink, a mirror and I think even a trash can. Nothing interesting, no pervert, no confused child, no show.

The bathroom was a single stall.

I wandered in, rather struck by the silence, struck by the lack of scribbles on the wall, struck by the cleanliness. This was as far from the bathrooms in Churchill as one could get.

As it happened, I came for the restroom, and stayed for the progressive values.

I was there, and all of my hatred for all that is equality left my body.

I wanted to pull an Oprah and run down the halls of the STEM building at 11 p.m. throwing toilet paper rolls, screaming: “You get equality! You get equality! You get equality!”

I realize that this gender-neutral bathroom is a mid-point, simply a single stall. Imagine a restroom filled with stalls, for all to use.

What a living hell that would be, right? I know I cry a little whenever a see a girl in public, I’m not that big of a ladies’ man.

You see, I loved my single-stall experience, but if there were multiple private stalls in a bathroom with a common sink for washing our hands, I am sure hell would freeze over.

Either way, we have bigger fish to fry; for instance, where is my damn plaque, U.S. Postal Service?