I actually don’t really have a backdoor. It’s more like a dorm door, that I always have my back to.
Through that dorm door, you begin in a hallway. Most of the time it reeks of vanilla candles mixed with the stink of freshmen thirsty thursday, and upper classman smoke of the gods. It’s pretty bright, almost blinding, especially if you wake up and decide you don’t want to exist today.
Walking down the hall you see boards, designed by the lovely R.A., let’s call him C. Right outside the door is one on masturbation. Always make time for some self love. Another one down the hall is on sharks. Two more, one on current events and the other on “happy mistakes”. Walk past them like they don’t exist.
Going to the left gives you a small lounge, where I spent my time avoiding my ex-roommate when he wanted to wallow in that upperclassman smoke of the gods. I also played a shit ton of video games in there. It’s a decent looking lounge, with a few comfy chairs, and some uncomfortable ones.
Going to the right leads you to the pinnacle of Emerson, or at least to me. You’ve got the holy trinnity, the kitchen, the vending machines, and the laundry room. I spend alot of time in the laundry room. Working in a dinning hall as a student manager, I need to do laundry pretty often, sometimes two loads twice a week. And, because of that, alot of times I spend my time at the vending machines. All the food, and some of the condoms you would ever need, just $2.00 in quarters. Then the kitchen, which I only use when I need a microwave.
Going further, you pass gilded mailboxes, right next to the door. You can show yourself out right?