#238 You're zipping up I-5 to Bellingham, about a half hour away from falling into your newfound love's arms for the entire weekend (yay!). Afterwards wash your hands in your own private in-stall sink, complete with towels and toiletries! Still, a trip to the ladies' room reveals nice private stalls offering glorious views of the sky-if you're lucky, you'll catch a passing plane or helicopter. Nonetheless we cherish the gold plaque that Twice Sold Tales posted over its kitty litter box shortly after Frizzelle's original story appeared, which announced that the contents of the litter box were devoted to Frizzelle's "life and work."ħ01 Fifth Ave Yes, it's on a private floor and part of a highfalutin boys' club for guys who keep their Cubans locked in special drawers.
Anecdotal experience proves that the cat-pee problem seems to have been taken care of (did they change the carpets?), and Twice Sold Tales and The Stranger again love each other (we recently found a rare and beautiful edition of Kafka there).
Last summer, books editor Christopher Frizzelle wrote about Twice Sold Tales facing stiff competition when corporate-owned Half Price Books moved into the Capitol Hill neighborhood, and in the piece he mentioned, as an aside, the oft-voiced concern that Twice Sold Tales sometimes smells like cat pee. sharp.ĩ05 E John St Though technically not a place you can drop a load, the kitty litter box at Twice Sold Tales holds a special place in The Stranger's heart. The only downside? The toilets are locked up with the rest of the library at 8:00 p.m. Hidden behind a pane of frosted glass on the second floor of the public library, this water closet is a quiet oasis, sporting the same blond-wood-and-metal theme as the rest of the (vaguely nautical, overtly IKEA) building, but minus all those pretentious books.
#GAY MEN CRUISING MENS RESTROOMS FREE#
Très, très bien!Ĥ25 Harvard Ave Before we had a fancy self-cleaning loo down near Seattle Central, there was a kinder, gentler free restroom just off Broadway. Très bien!Ĥ29 15th Ave E All the language treats of the 5 Spot restrooms (see above) on Capitol Hill! Time your visits to Coastal Kitchen correctly and spend a lot of time in their can. While you relax and empty your bladder, the mellifluous voice of some foreign national will fill your head with all sorts of useful words and phrases. The folks at the 5 Spot understand this, and so they've put the incessantly looping tape of language instruction right where it will benefit you the most: the potty. well, that's up to them.ġ502 Queen Anne Ave N The easiest way to learn a foreign tongue is to stop concentrating so damn hard and let your infant brain take the rudder for a while. And though the City Centre's watchful eye certainly doesn't extend to the stalls (one hopes), its presence still offers our city's exhibitionists a place to.
#GAY MEN CRUISING MENS RESTROOMS CODE#
Plus, a code is required to enter!ġ420 Fifth Ave As you enter, there it is, on the door: You are under surveillance. Very few people have actually seen the mysterious space (tourists aren't allowed), but city council member and architect Peter Steinbrueck got a tour in the late '90s when there was talk of doing the repairs, and reports, "I remember a lot of urine stink and broken bottles."ġ333 Fifth Ave The best soap in the city-fluffy, foamy, and not too smelly. Located directly below the Pergola, the Titanic-era restroom was closed in the mid-'50s and reportedly needs half a million dollars in restorations. The Mysterious Restroom Below Pioneer SquareĪccording to a former tour guide at Bill Speidel's Underground Tour (608 First Ave), the secret restroom built in 1916 below Pioneer Square was a large marble-floored affair with polished white tiling on the walls. Shangri-la for germaphobes, posh for the rest of us.
The urinals, the pots, the sinks, the driers-all merely require a pass of the hand, never a caress. It is, to be sure, a wonderful vista to pee before.Ģ100 Fourth Ave With the foresight and care that only being absurdly wealthy can provide, Paul Allen has created the perfect public restroom: one where you don't have to touch anything. 927 Ninth Ave How many times have you donned your finest threads for a night of drinking, only to find that when you dash off to pee, your surroundings are stale or, worse, uninspiring? Far too many? Then make sure to drink at Vito's-at least if you're a man-for not only is their restroom posh (if a tad soiled), but it contains Seattle's most splendid tile mural: a scantily clad, nubile woman in deep repose.