Public Restrooms in New York City?
Here’s a piece I wrote for Time Out New York’s New York City Guide which will not be used…
Make sure to catch a glimpse of New York’s new public pay potty. Located between Madison Square Park and Madison Ave between 23rd and 24th streets squat’s a large stainless steel and tempered glass box, about the size of a newsstand. When strolling along the park I thought the structure looked more like a misplaced elevator from the nearby buildings that tower over the park instead of a public restroom. A red light notified me that the bathroom was “occupied.” I waited patiently nearby the toilet before the door slid open, just like an elevator, and out popped the toilet’s former user.
“I’ve had to piss in bottles while driving and picking up passengers,” Josef Mullaev, a New York City taxi and limo driver told me as he exited the restroom. The lack of public restrooms in New York City apparently causes serious difficulties for our cities cabbies, as Mullaev seemed eternally grateful for the public restroom. “It’s really beautiful, the bathroom, but I don’t think most people will know how to use it, ” he told me as I gazed into the bathroom’s interior as the door shut behind us. “They only have instructions in English.”
Accessing the toilet is no different than using a candy machine. I inserted a quarter into a slot when a yellow light turned on alerting me that service was needed for the bathroom. I paused, waited a few minutes, but nothing changed. A service person is supposed to keep an eye on the bathroom’s operations throughout the day but no one was around to fix one of New York’s few public restrooms.
I returned an hour later and saw a green “Vacancy” light glowing brightly near the door. I inserted another quarter and the silver metallic door slid open. I walked onto a wet, black rubber mat that lined the floor and scanned the bathroom’s gray plastic walls with its surprisingly spacious interior. Suddenly the bathroom doors closed behind me locking me in for my allotted fifteen minutes. I turned to my right and saw three smaller buttons – a red one for in case of an emergency, a yellow one to reach an operator, and an orange light to warn users when there is three minutes to open the door. A large green button allowed me to open the door if I decided to leave early, and below the green button was another red emergency button. Behind me, the metallic toilet looked as if it had a few gallons of water and soap poured onto it was still wet. To the left side of the toilet, a different button dispensed toilet paper with yet another red emergency button nearby. A large rectangular mirror allowed me to check my hair and attire and the sink provided an automatic water and soap dispenser and an automatic hand dryer.
After twelve minutes of observing the facility the fan that had been whirring died down, the lights dimmed as I prepared to be immersed in the seven gallons of disinfectant water that cleans the bathroom after each session.
“Hello? Is everything alright?” the toilet god spoketh to me. “Do you need any help?” the voice continued. I looked around and didn’t see anyone occupying the bathroom with me, and let the toilet god know I was doing ok, and I’d be done momentarily. “Let me know if you need any help,” were his concluding words before I decided to take a piss for the helluva it and use the automatic sink.
A queue hadn’t been created during my fifteen minutes of privacy when I exited and most people didn’t seem to notice New York’s newest and most convenient public restroom. A great idea, I thought to myself, as long as one can read English or tread water.
Tags: Travel, Travel Writing Class
