Walk to Work: Peeing in the Corner
New York has not really taken to the public toilet concept. They've been introduced and rejected over and over. I guess people think they're gross, despite the fact that the designers have gone to some length to make them self-cleaning. I guess I must think they're gross, too, because I've never used one. For any given neighborhood I'm familiar with, I have a mental map of where all the Barnes & Nobles or other pee-friendly places are, but I understand that not everyone is as, er, anal as I am, and that not every coffee shop is going to throw open its stalls to bike messengers. Which is how you get scenes like this morning, me minding my own business on 35th street, that guy urinating in an irregularity of the Macy's building.
Labels: city life
1 Comments:
When I took Dan to New York, we found the grossest bathroom in the whole city. It was in a Starbucks in the Village. I don't even have the words to describe the ick factor of urine soaked toilet paper strung around the floor.
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