Planet of the Grapes

503 Broadway

Located past the fitting room like our previous Banana Republic review, the sibling company “Old Navy” doesn’t care if you sneak in by yourself. Gap, Inc., designed Old Navy like the ratty younger brother who perpetually lives in the mental state of freshman year at college. That way, if Banana’s upscale image turns you off, the company still gets your money in the end. However, Old Navy settles into the neighborhood of SoHo comfortably and embraces the space it occupies by leaving it looking like a warehouse.

Their acceptance of the industrial look would benefit them quite well in their facilities, had they gone all the way with it. But only going halfway with the Bohemian look is the same as when an uptown banker tries to come down to this neighborhood to “pick up artsy chicks”–all the cool kids see right through it. Sorry, but the INC is still the biggest part of Gap, Inc. The bathroom is lit brightly by caged, industrial fixtures. The top third of the wall is left as exposed brick to “legitimize” things, and the floor has a brushed concrete look with half a coat of paint on it. But the stalls, gray as they are, look a little too polished for the image they were going for. Also, there is an odd smell lingering in the air, something that will never be cool no matter how uncool it is. Overall you get the sense that they could have done much more to make it “look the part.”

Rating: 6.5

552 Broadway

Banana Republic has always kept a stiff upper lip when sneering at its rivals in the retail clothing industry. No matter where you go, you can always count on BR to sell the “safe” look. Its presence alone can deter the marginally adventurous shopper from experimenting at the next door leather shop. It comes as no surprise that the establishment is very guarded about their image, but the measures to which the SoHo branch’s bathrooms are kept secure is a bit too much to swallow. When we asked for the bathroom we were lead individually by an attendant through the fitting rooms to a locked restroom where only employees had the key. Once inside, we were able to lock it, though that didn’t make us feel any more welcome.

There are two oners here, and neither one passes the mark of impressive. A brushed marble green tile hugs the lower half of the walls, the only sign of color, the lone plant growing through a crack in the city sidewalk. To the establishment’s credit, the room is kept clean and functional with a few amenities such as toilet seat covers. We were starting to see that the “conservative-with-a-hint-of-personality” aesthetic that informs the clothing also applied to the bathroom design. At least they’re consistent. At the washing station a very wide half-length mirror offers more than the idea that you’re just in a public bathroom; it also works well for people who are only trying on tops (or, people whose legs are not their best feature and want to focus of their well-proportioned torso). However, the sink and counter top, and almost everything on it, is made of industrial brushed steel and reminds us that the public bathroom designers care only about one of the “F”s: function*. Thankfully, they care enough to do it right.

*The other three being feng shui, feel-goodedness, and fornication.

Rating: 6.0

8th Street and Broadway

Just like the surplus of men named Ray who open pizzerias in New York, there are also many pizzerias that are “famous”…but they can’t all really be this famous. Perhaps pizzerias are to NY as people are to LA. Anyway, the most striking thing about this bathroom is the amount of graffiti–easily enough to fill a novella (that’s a fancy way of saying short novel). At least there was a small degree of entertainment value. One tidbit read, “Whores don’t get a second chance- God.” Correct us if we are wrong, but that’s from “Taming of the Shrew”…or Joey-from-Queens-after-he-found-out-that- Samantha-was-cheating-on-him-with-his-best-friend-can-you-fucking-believe-it-I-mean- I-thought-he-was-gonna-marry-this-chick-ya-know…

The ceiling was only half painted. Oh, those Italians! (we can say that, our last names end in vowels). The clay-colored tiles that run up the bottom of the wall are taken over by a matte green paint that consumes everything in its path. The bathroom at one time clearly sported one of those vintage silvery hand dryers, but even that is covered in the stuff, as if some wall fungus took over half the bathroom. The owner of Famous Famiglia might tell you the bathroom is green for good luck, like the color of money. We think it’s the color of envy: this place actually does not measure up to the bathroom at the previously reviewed Ray Bono pizza uptown on Lex and 82nd St, which was not an ideal rest stop itself. At Famous Famiglia, everything in the bathroom works right for the median rating of “5,” but major points are deducted since it is just so abominable looking. Perhaps this “famous” family should have went into landscaping.

Rating: 3.0

650 Broadway

Wendy has a funny way of accommodating her customers. Like a deranged wife trying to off her husband for his money, she seems to have taken a rather extreme and grim method of thanking people for buying her burgers. The last Wendy’s we went to sported a small plate of liquid soap with 1,000 fingerprints (the same one from the Arabian Nights stories).

This time she has really outdone herself. You could smell the bathroom the moment you walk into the store. Waiting in line for a oner, we entered only to find a large, metallic room that looks like a gas chamber. The purple square floor tiles were caked with filth and possibly human remains. The steel brushed walls were covered in graffiti and scratchitti. The toilet and sink were absolutely wretched, making the holes in the ground of bathrooms in “developing countries” (is “third world” un-PC now?) seem preferable. Despite the fact that soap was present, its effectiveness wears off the moment you turn the faucet off; it pretty much had the same viscosity as water. On the side is a solitary velvet rope, a cryptic message we have yet to decipher. Is this supposed to denote a feeling of exclusivity? Only if you have a fetish for hanging out in the worst bathrooms around the city (hey, maybe they’re still better than some of the night clubs). With so many establishments in Manhattan, many of them offering at least sub-par facilities, one wonders why anyone would risk their comfort, and possibly their health, by using this one.

Rating: 2.0

Celebrating the Feast of Saint Walrus Man, we speak to the greater being himself/herself. Saint Walrus man’s sexual exploits incur the curiosity of hipster Plate Tectonics.

Saint Walrus Man asks to be kept on in the background so he can listen to the show while the hosts get Tiffany Amber Thiessen on the phone. Plate wants to know why she slept with Saint Walrus Man and why she won’t sleep with him. Also, a shrimp priest informs us that Saint Walrus Man is not really a saint.

Bono is calling his new album “Piglet’s Uterus”. We don’t know what that means, but we decided to get to the bottom of it. But first the Anti Horse has to call and remind Saint Walrus Man of his place. When we finally speak to Piglet, he is angry that everybody’s talking about his uterus, whatever that may mean.

622 Broadway

Best Buy was gracious enough to provide us with the definition of a five. Five is the highest score a bathroom can receive for being perfectly clean without any aesthetic design. You feel comfortable using the bathroom but you don’t want to hang around. We were escorted to the facilities by one of the employees, a retail bathroom troll if you will. We didn’t have to answer a riddle, but we did have to convince him that because of our “celebrity” we would “work on” getting him tickets to an Ultimate Fighting match. Our new friend then let us into the restroom by way of typing the right code into a numeric keypad. This way, no one could sneak in with one of the store’s items and stash the ridiculously large package into the back of their trousers. Of course, if you can override the keypad’s security system, Best Buy is probably small potatoes for you.

We found everything to be gray in this bathroom: tiny gray square tiles on the floor and walls, gray wall paint, gray stall, gray pigeon corpse. The only things not gray are, amazingly, the toilet and sinks, which are kept clean and pristine, as well as our moods, upon discovering how well-maintained this bathroom was. A plentiful stock of toilet paper and paper towel is always within reach. However, the faucets had the button you have to press down on and quickly put your hands under within three seconds, else the water shuts off. This is known in bathroom reviewing circles as “Water Temp Russian Roulette” (think about it…good). Between that and the keypad, Best Buy’s operation is starting to look more like a secret agent training camp. This would explain the gray, plain look, as agents will have to get used to hiding in the backs of  trucks.

Rating: 5.0

Celebrating the Feast of Saint Walrus Man, we speak to the greater being himself/herself. Saint Walrus Man’s sexual exploits incur the curiosity of hipster Plate Tectonics.

Saint Walrus Man asks to be kept on in the background so he can listen to the show while the hosts get Tiffany Amber Thiessen on the phone. Plate wants to know why she slept with Saint Walrus Man and why she won’t sleep with him. Also, a shrimp priest informs us that Saint Walrus Man is not really a saint.

Bono is calling his new album “Piglet’s Uterus”. We don’t know what that means, but we decided to get to the bottom of it. But first the Anti Horse has to call and remind Saint Walrus Man of his place. When we finally speak to Piglet, he is angry that everybody’s talking about his uterus, whatever that may mean.

Also on the show, Roland approaches Saint Walrus Man with a partnership and tries to arrange a match between Gupta Kronog and King Kong Bunson.