Mohn pooper is the cause of the bad reputation of dorm

Mohn gets a lot of crap just for being Mohn. Every time I tell a non-Mohn resident where I live, they all make the same face – like they smelled something unpleasant but are too polite to mention it. Finally, I have uncovered the reason for Mohn’s reputation: it is cursed.

For nearly a decade, Mohn has had the same problem, year after year: a phantom pooper. The locations targeted by the phantom for their devious deeds have shifted gradually, but have never left Mohn. Included here are four tales of misdeed, all from different years, to ground the case for the Curse of Mohn on cold hard evidence.

2009-2010: Eight years ago. First recorded instance of the phantom pooper. The cousin of a current Mohn resident reported finding poop in the lounge.

2015-2016: Two years ago, the stairwell. Repeatedly.

2016-2017: Last year. First floor bathroom.

2017-2018: This year, October 30. Sixth floor bathroom.

Clearly, Mohn is cursed. Some dorms are haunted (looking at you, Thorson and Hill/Kitt), but Mohn’s supernatural activity is more subtle and pernicious. Ghosts unite a dorm, but curses split one. A ghost gives everyone a common fear, but the Curse of Mohn turns an ordinary resident into the phantom pooper. Accusations and suspicion run rampant, as the other residents try to find and stop the resident turned phantom – yet you draw closer to your allies in the hunt and bond over donuts and stories of the phantom pooper.

Mohn’s reputation isn’t a result of the linoleum floors or the showers that sometimes flood – it is because non-Mohn residents can feel the tension caused by the presence of the phantom pooper. When they claim that “Mohn is gross,” what they really mean is that the suspicion and tension are tangible. What they cannot see is the way that friendships are forged through trial, in the same way that the 3 a.m. fire alarm of September brought the Mohn community closer. In the hunt for the phantom, alliances and friendships are made that will last long after we move out of Mohn. This is why people who actually live in Mohn say it’s “not that bad,” and is “better than I expected.” Every cloud has a silver lining; in the case of the phantom pooper of Mohn, the silver lining is only visible to those who live there.

In conclusion, an open letter to this year’s phantom pooper: Silver linings are nice, but clear skies are better. Mohn isn’t haunted so the odds are good that you haven’t been taken over by a hostile supernatural entity that forces you to poop places where poop is generally frowned upon.

Humanity invented toilets for a reason, and just think: it could be you that stops the Curse of Mohn in its tracks and ends Mohn’s negative reputation. Imagine a St. Olaf where Mohn is a place of positivity and close community instead of a dorm full of suspicion and accusations (and poop). Imagine a Mohn of sunshine instead of silver linings, where Mohn gets the respect it deserves, and stay strong. Mohnsters everywhere, current and future, will thank you.