Cole Hall Seats: Grade: F+

Cole Hall seats are economically unforgiving plastic chairs of unconventional discomfort.

These beasts of hindquarter discomfort have somehow found their way into my every day life for all but one of my terms here at NIU.

Their construction is exceedingly simple. It’s just one large steel beam with a row of legless chairs bolted to them. As if born of lightning in some mad scientists lab, where all that was considered was total profit, not the average student tush. One could ponder that creating such mass discomfort would force one to stand and meander in the lobby area, occasionally indulging in a refreshing Pepsi. Perhaps Pepsi was in on the plan to forcibly discomfort the masses, seeing as they practically own NIU President John Peters.

I understand that my posterior is not as voluptuous as most, but I’ve found extreme discomfort staying put in those cursed brownish-green chairs for any amount of time.

My absolute worst bum experience was during COMS 356: Critical Interpretation of Film.

Sitting for fifty minutes is bad, but when I was subjected to “Apocalypse Now,” a giant two and a half hour epic of Vietnam , I started caring more about my butt than whether or not Martin Sheen’s character would survive.

I’ve found some creative seating positions, but most–if not all–seem to catch the attention of the TAs, who alert me to sit properly.

This semester I have the indescribable joy of taking Anthropology in Cole. There are over 400 students in my class, which ruins the possibility of any opportunity to put my feet up or sprawl out over multiple rows.

Don’t you fret, my beloved rump. I’ll make it up to you somehow. Specifically, I’m pledging to start the Save Our Bums Foundation.

I am the president and founder of the SOB Foundation. We will be holding an open election for the vice president, treasurer and secretary sometime, somewhere.

Our main goal is to whine so much and for so long that someone will take action and buy Cole Hall new seats. We must band together, for only our collective complaining has the ability to change.

At the stroke of noon on the 12th of Never, I plan to hold a rally with banners, signs, and speakers at the MLK Commons.

Join me then, and stand up against these monsters of discomfort. Your fanny will thank you.