When I was a freshman, way back before the 21st century ended in double digits, I would walk past South Campus Commons in awe of the buildings and the upperclassmen that filtered out of them. The thought of a kitchen, free laundry machines and my own room with central air conditioning made my freshman head swim. (This sensation may have been caused by the sweltering heat of my cramped dorm room, but for now we’ll attribute it to the dream of Commons.)
I spent my sophomore year in a luxurious suite on Washington Quad, and that arrangement was nearly golden — except for the fact that I was in living in a triple. As that year went on, my lust for a single room grew stronger, and I managed to land an apartment in Commons for my junior year. With great roommates with whom I didn’t have to share a room, Commons and I seemed to be a match made in heaven. A pricey match, but hey, it was on-campus housing and, besides the occasional violent attacks on fliers in the hallways, it seemed to be relatively safe. What could possibly go wrong?
Well, Commons proved to be a bit more of a pain than I had bargained for. For every benefit it seems to have, there is a flaw that can match and maybe even overshadow that perk. Let’s start with a fan favorite: the Internet service. If you’re reading this column online, you must not be sitting in a Commons apartment. The only thing consistent about the Internet connection in Commons is that you know every night, from 7 p.m. to 12 a.m., it will be nearly impossible to access the Web for more than 5 minutes straight, even though the Internet problem was supposedly fixed (I’m looking at your e-mails, Erika Poindexter).
Or how about the poorly shaped rooms, some of which don’t allow the bedroom door and the closet door to be open at the same time? Or how about the fact that residents living here over the summer have to make their common room look “uninhabited” for a month just to find that it was neither cleaned nor repainted like it had been implied it would be? (Again, I’m looking at your e-mails, Erika Poindexter.)
It’s also nice to note that the first rent payment is due Aug. 1, even though you’re not allowed to move in until late August. I don’t know about you, but I always enjoy paying full price for things I can’t use yet.
As rent continues to climb, Commons’ amenities stay the same. I understand rent covers taxes and the cost of management, but let’s not pretend that Commons is barely getting by on the exorbitant rent it charges its residents. Luckily, I’m graduating this year and won’t see rent hit the $800 mark that it’s sprinting toward. But I hope that along with the inevitable rent increase, future residents will see the addition of a pool, a gym and a break fast-in-bed service (here’s a hint: They won’t).
When my friends heard I was going to write this article, I was bombarded with Commons horror stories that ranged from the hilarious to the frustrating. So why are we still living here?
Ellen Linzer is a senior English major. She can be reached at linzer at umdbk dot com.
