Planet of the Grapes

55 E 8th St

Chipotle seemed to spring up overnight in the northeast US, providing Manhattan with an above-par taste of cheap Mexican burritos. Far from the traditional roots of adobe ovens and handmade flour tortillas, this chain boasts a very modern and metallic style and puts the “fast” in “fast food.” A typical Chipotle line at lunch hour extends out the door, but it moves faster than a Manhattan psychiatrist’s pen on the prescription pad. This particular branch held a special affinity to non-geometric shapes and boasts oblong counter tops along the entrance. Large relief sculptures, possibly of the various Mexican gods that three percent of Americans actually recognize, bookend the main eating area.

The bathrooms here are sadly not part of the grand scheme, lacking the shapes, gods, and occasional salsa stains that adorn the dining area’s walls. At least the bathroom’s functionality discourages stragglers and keeps things moving, just like on the food line. The wall is brushed steel halfway up and followed by stucco, and the floor tiles are made from a cheap red clay. Two utility lights give the room an industrial look, more frequently a design mistake when it comes to bathrooms. It gives things a closet feel that may confuse the employees when they’re looking for a place to store the mops (or sneak in a break-time quickie, God bless them). Hanging on the wall next to the brushed steel sink is a waste basket. It’s located just below the towel dispenser, putting a stop to douchey guys who try to “score baskets” with their rolled up paper towels, miss, and then rationalize reasons not to pick them up. Overall, the bathroom was in functioning order, and a handicap rail adds a touch of civic consideration, if not aesthetic.

Rating: 5.0