Consider the Tap(s)

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An unauthorized guide to Osgoode’s best faucets and tap lamps.

The Tap Lamps

We are constantly surprised by the number of our peers who are unaware of the “tap on, tap off” lamps on the tables furthest away from the windows on the upstairs floor of the library. In fact, we are only sharing this information with Obiter readers because we are graduating and won’t be around for the inevitable fights that will ensue over the desks now that this information is available to the student body. We have never sat at one of the desks without tapping the light on– even during an early morning library session. The light flickers on in a “eureka” moment, signifying the illuminating of our brains to focus on intermittently typing a few words on our computers and then going back to scrolling Instagram or watching what everyone else in the room is doing. Tapping the light off is the closest we have to punching a time card after a hard day’s work; it signifies that we have turned off our brains once again and will go home to watch Drag Race or a Hallmark movie. But seriously, were our brains ever on in the first place? The lamps sure make it feel like they were.

The lamps that turn on by pressing down on the metal bar are simply substandard. Their shades are not as sleek. Their necks are not as svelte. Their bulbs are not as bright, and sometimes they don’t even turn on. They don’t make us feel as good. We relish each moment that we have gone to a friend’s table and tapped the lamp on for them—the look of awe in their eyes has made the long library hours all worth it! We are so excited to pass this information on to you, student body, and hope your study sessions are as enlightened by the tap lamps as ours have been for as long as we have been allowed to study in the building (which is, shockingly, not the entirety of the 3 years we’ve been here). 

The Water Taps

And now for some less exciting discussion: the sinks at Osgoode. Picture this: you’ve just come out of the stall into a crowded washroom and soaped up your hands. Once you’ve gotten a good lather going, you turn to the so-called “motion sensor” water tap to rinse. But it doesn’t work. You wave your soapy hands frantically under the sink, praying that the person at the sink beside you doesn’t notice your struggle. And they do. Every single time. They make a comment like “try the next one” or “this happens to me every day.” Because if there’s one universal experience about being a woman at Osgoode, it’s the fact that the sinks don’t work. And when they do finally turn on, the sprinkler that erupts can feel like an impromptu baptism. In fact, we are reluctant to even recommend that the school attempts to fix them because it’s such a bonding experience amongst students. However, some things must change. We cannot subject ourselves to embarrassment every single time we need to wash our hands. 

But there’s one tap at the school that deserves some (soapy-handed) applause: the sink in the library’s basement women’s bathroom, closest to the hand dryers. Those of you who know… know. The smooth flow of water— we have never once been sprayed by a random stream. And the temperature. The temperature! Never freezing cold, never boiling hot. Beautifully tepid, leaning towards warm. Just sublime. Next time you have to get up and go downstairs to use the washroom (on that note, why is there not an upstairs washroom in the library?!), we hope there won’t be a line for this sink. Your hands will thank you.
As we tap out for the last time at Osgoode, it’s the little things that have made our last 3 years what they’ve been. Over the course of your law school careers, we hope that—like us—you are able to find a group of weirdos who jump at the chance to write an Obiter article about lamps and sinks. For us, that’s been better than all the taps combined.

About the author

Miriam Levin-Gold
Christine Carthew
Joeley Pulver
Mallory Cramp-Waldinsperger

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