Today's Science Times (A Simple Need, All Too Often Unmet) once again delivers helpful advice to us big apple dwellers. For the author, Jane Brody, and many other New Yorkers have often found themselves in need of a restroom at an inconvenient time or in an inconvenient place, this article is truly a public service.
The article also reminded me of wise words my aunt, a long time resident of Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, gave me during my early visits to New York: "Always pee where you pay." Brody lists a smattering of likely venues for public toilets in New York, but neglects to encourage paying customers to linger for an extra 2 minutes that can mean the difference between comfort and urgency. My aunt, on the other hand, would encourage us to "just try" to pee before leaving whatever eating establishment, museum or shop where money had exchanged hands. It's a handy phrase that I consider to be some of the best life advice I've ever received.
The most cruel and discouraging time to really have to pee, though, might be on a weekend afternoon whilst touring the city's finer drinking establishments. Then one must not only consider the lack of public restrooms, but also the famous "breaking of the seal" physiological response to having consumed lots of beer.
Actually, I have no idea whether this response is psychological or whether it actually has some physiological basis, but I do know that no matter how long I've been doing 18 oz curls, after I take an initial potty break, I have to pee like every half an hour thereafter. This becomes very cumbersome if I'm sitting on the inside of a booth, or worse if I happen to be unaccompanied at the time by nought but lots of shopping bags.
So hats off to Brody for pointing out a pervasive public health concern for New Yorkers, but remember kids, for a truly great New York City pub crawl, Always Pee Where you Pay and Don't Break the Seal!
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3 comments:
Ginny,
This reminds me of a couple of things. First, do you remember the story when Steven, after a night of heavy drinking, found himself waiting for the subway on the platform only to find that he desparately needed to "let it flow." He thought he was sneaky when he crawled around the barrier at the end of the platform, so he could relieve himself in semi-privacy. The only problem was that he did so directly in front of a see-through mirror and on the other side was a NYPD station in the subway (maybe 14th St. 4,5,6 stop?). Needless to say that he had an attentive audience and he was cited (remember in all fairness that he was in a drunken stupor made more crazy by the need to pee). The second thing is really just advice. While I was in NYC I found many a public restroom available on almost every other block, but instead of the sign reading "public restroom" it read "Starbucks." I never bought any coffee, but they sell a diarectic, so they are contributing to the problem and I feel no moral problem with using their facilities. Remember then, there is no shortage of "Star-public restroom-bucks" on every Manhattan corner.
I have to disagree w/ Bryan on the issue of "Starbucks adding to the problem by selling the product". The responsiblity to govern one's bladder lies in the owner of said bladder. Starbucks (or any of the myriad purveyors of liquid diuretics) didn't force us to drink the product - it is done by choice. I too was taught "pee where you pay" by my city-dwelling grandparent. This was reinforced by my parents reminding us that the purchase of something in an establishment just to use the restroom is proper and polite - afterall, the establishment pays the water, sewer, rent and cleaning bills - even if the later doesn't seem obvious. Ginny, thanks for reminding us of this wisdom left out by the article.
Thanks Bryan and anonymous for sharing a great story and extending the discussion on the difficulties of locating a potty in the city! My mom, technology savvy though she is, chose to email this to me rather than posting it. I thought it was worth sharing:
"[When we'd go out in the city] My roommate in NY, Mary, always had to stop at a little filling station on the Palisades Parkway just before hitting the GW Bridge 'to make sure.' Since I never went there, I am not sure 'of what.'"
My Mom also had some fun adventures in the West Village circa 1965 that I think she should guest blog about sometime... "No Name Bar" ring a bell anyone?
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