The New York Restaurant Bathroom

I don't know how many of you are in the NY area, or have vacationed here enough to know this but, because of the space situation in NYC, the area of most restaurants devoted the restroom is minimal.  While it's adequate for smaller restaurant, it is second only to the joy of using an airline restroom with the added thrill that there is a lighted scented candle in there which runs the risk of setting you ablaze as you go about your routine.  At the very least, you will leave there smelling like sandwood.

Another hurdle is that the it has "the baby sink."  This is a sink so small that it looks more like a water fountain.  It is side-mounted and so narrow that your hand, the faucet, and the basin never quite align, so you find yourself cupping your hands in the hope that some of the water will run down your arm rinsing off the soap that is outside of the reach of the faucet flow, all the while trying to avoid touching the basin at all.  You end up washing your hands sideways doing this kind of Watusi dance while conscious that if you move too broadly in the wrong direction, your could ignite.

In many cases, this "room" is located literally feet away from someone's table and you exit feeling vulnerable knowing that they are privy to details about your most personal behavior, for example, if you flushed twice or if you stayed "too long," or, God forbid, if you're having "Number 2" issues.  You avoid making eye contact with them as you exit, but with your peripheral vision, you can see that they're looking up ever so discretely to judge you.  No one likes getting the "toilet table", but if it means the difference between waiting forever for the next available or getting seating right away, many New Yorkers will opt for the latter.

I'm always amazed by the restaurant bathrooms in Paris.  They are equally small, but they're always down a tiny spiral staircase with mirrored walls, too narrow for anyone but supermodels, and down a corridor so far removed from the restaurant dining area that you almost feel as though you've entered Belgium by the time you finally reach the bathroom.  They're equally unglamourous, but at least you never have to deal with the ringside toilet judges watching your every move.