December 4, 2009 ☞ Reviews
With over 200 beers—forget it, I have to talk about the men’s washroom. Easily the most awkward layout imaginable. It’s exquisite. A friend went in first and came back in hysterics. “You have to go in there,” he offered, which is a messed up thing to say about any lavatory. Several beers later, nature summoned and I got to visit this tiny schmozzle of a W.C. I chose the urinal immediately to the right of the door which of course is immediately perpendicular to a miniscule stall and practically on top of the other urinal. Folks, this place is no larger than a phonebooth and a half. I considered taking a picture, but that’s an effective way to earn a shiner in NYC.
As I enjoyed relief, I wondered what would happen if a) someone came in to use the urinal, and b) the person in the stall came out, and c) I were to turn around, and d) someone else were to come in the front door. It’s fortunate that I did, because that’s exactly what happened. The four men in the restroom took a breath each other’s air before I offered, “holy fuck.” I think the remark brought us closer together (were that physically possible).
They serve Chimay, also.
Obligatory Title Pun: That restroom is PEE-culiar
Menu Readability: Laminated lettersized on canary with a bazillion beers in tiny type.
Need to mention: The men’s bathroom is really small.
What this place teaches me about myself: I’ll pee anywhere. Try me.