Sunday, March 6, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
weed. For a place that is supposed to cater to people who are looking
for a sandwich to fill the void in their stoned stomach, a trip to the
bathroom seems buzzkillingly complicated.
Finding the bathroom was not overly complicated, but finding my way back almost set my sober mind into a pot-induced state of paranoia. More signage is probably required, or the kind employees of Cheba Hut might start finding the remains of rastas littering the long hallway one must complete, like a maze, to make room for more of the Kool-Aid from the delicious looking fountain.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
time I've been in the bathroom. The bar always feel so personal to me,
is the bathroom the same way. At first, I thought no. Then I saw this
inscribed on the wall beyond the toilet:
"Workshop: where the aggressively inarticulate get their (like)
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Vistas of the beloved peninsula with the sounds of Dean Martin and a man coughing up the phleghm of a thousand smoke-filled nights spent in a plaza drinking wine and harrassing the local women assured me that I was receiving an authentic Italian experience, even in the bathroom.
The sink had the high level of quality and care that I have come to expect from a casual dining restaurant, with more bells and whistles than one would see in a rustic village home. Still, it is true that when you pee here, you pee with family.
Friday, December 24, 2010
nolstalgic for the bathrooms I frequented as an undergrad. The places
I spent much of my time, killing time between classes on campus, in a
point in my Iowa City career when I differentiated between campus and
off-campus. When I visited this bathroom before sneaking into a long
film class, preparing for a short nap during the first half hour,
hoping only not to snore and to gain back a bit of the energy I had
lost staying up too late the previous night, knowing I would need the
rest to do the same that night. Those were times I miss, but I have
grown past them. I am a different person now. It's not quite the same
to go back. You feel old. You can't go home again, not really, but
perhaps you can pee there.