Picture this: You've overslept for your 8:15 a.m. class because you stayed up all night with your roommate who couldn't stop dry-heaving because she wanted to be a bumblebee for Halloween, but "that whore Stephanie" just HAD to go out and buy the costume that she wanted even though Stephanie KNOWS your roommate looks better in horizontal stripes.
In an attempt to salvage your missed 8:15 class, you e-mail your professor the most carefully crafted "heinous case of pink eye" e-mail ever written. As you set off to the library to finish the 12-page anthropology paper you've been slaving over for the past few weeks, you come to a dead stop in front of the handicap doors at Boatwright. "Is it push or pull?" you ask yourself as you awkwardly look behind you to make sure no one is watching.
Fortunately for you, someone coming out of the library shows you the proper handicap door etiquette. However, it is most unfortunate that you find yourself staring into the bespectacled eyes of the professor from your missed 8:15 a.m. class. There he is in all his glory, staring right back into your eyes ... your very white, non-infected eyes.
Needless to say, this day has been disastrous. And I regret to tell you that I've had days somewhat similar to this one. The worst part about the entire situation is that there is more or less nothing you can do except maybe eat your feelings and watch a True Blood marathon (this applies to guys, too. Don't lie - you know you watch it).
Yeah, sure, you could try yoga or meditating or glow-in-the-dark ribbon dancing, but is that really going to solve all your problems? No. Would smashing a laptop into dust solve all of your problems? Probably not. But it would make you feel a hell of a lot better. Especially since laptops are like the tumors of stress cancer. They're the little thing you lug around everywhere entering data and papers and outlines as your files grow and grow and grow until ...Alas, I digress.
The point is that if it were possible to go somewhere on campus at the end of any given day and beat the crap out of a printer with a hockey stick or light a pile of $200 textbooks on fire, I'd say "sign me up." This seems like a ridiculous concept. But is it?
For many of the women in Shenyang, China, the idea of having a place to relieve stress through the destruction of material goods is nothing new. In the August 2010 issue of Marie Claire, Abigail Haworth wrote a small but interesting article on a shopping mall in Northern China that has a store geared toward helping "angst-ridden" women relieve tensions by destroying rooms set up like average living rooms and bedrooms. According to the article, each woman is allotted one minute to destroy as much of the room as she possibly can via baseball bat or hammer.
In the article, Jingyu Wang (the manager of the mall in which the store is located) said women went to the stress relief store for many reasons ranging from boyfriend problems to issues in the office. It was common to see college graduates and women who were in need of a job at the store as well, smashing everything in sight, Wang said.
Could you imagine the possibilities of a facility like this here at Richmond? A place where there are mock classrooms and faux dorm rooms created for the sole purpose of allowing students to destroy them? It's a strange concept, I'll admit, but it seems oddly more satisfying than having your mom put your dog on the phone because you "just need to talk to someone who understands"
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