I really just wanted to head into the bathroom to snap a quick pic. That’s all. In and Out.
The working space of the TechArtista building on Washington Ave. in the CWE is urban-creative: exposed ventilation and pipes, murals in black and white, flashy colors on other walls, checker-patterned acoustic tiles. Y’know, hip. Cool. I thought that, with all of this cool decor, the bathroom would knock me out.
It almost totally did.
Big Idea (something that we were told to headline with at the writing workshop I was attending): If There Is a Big Step Leading Into the Restroom Right as the Door Opens, WARN ME!!! I opened the door, and moved forward, phone in hand…and promptly wiped the fuck out. Like, face flat, phone skittering across the floor, check-the-pants-for- knee-rips wipe out. Just another clumsy moment? A flipped flip-flop? Nope. There was a BIG step up from the open door. There was no sign indicating this design faux-pas, and I traveled in with nary a thought to my fate. This missing signage pretty much spoiled the experience. If my reviews included strikes, this was like getting hit by the ball: just move forward to the next base.
When I walk into a loo, I like to find the best vantage point to take my header shot. I don’t like to catch myself in the mirror, so it often involves a bit of contortion. Head throbbing (ahem. wiped the fuck OUT on that floor), I reached in, scooted my body back – minding the step – and snapped my shot.
Something caught my eye in the bottom left of the shot, so I moved in to investigate. A basket of little bottles of Scope Mouthwash. “That’s a new one!” Other than that…and the shower stall at the far end of the room, the restroom was unremarkable. But with the shower stall and the mouthwash? Quite intimate. Do people live at the TechArtista building?
The colors of the walls were bright, with pictures in contrasting frames. Not quite as hipster-funk as the working space of the building, but a colorful room that aimed to please. (it could have been cooler) … (says the old-time hipster cat-grandma) …
Two stalls, stocked. A mirrored washup area with the classic ‘here’s the towels but where is the trash can?’ phenomenon. And Q-tips. Again: Do people LIVE here?
I only had a quick mo’. No time to go – I am in the midst of a writing workshop while writing this, after all – so I took my pic, and took my leave…and remembered…
Big. Step. Down.