City Breaks, Travel Narrative

The Cruelest Restroom: Chelsea Market

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I love New York.  I love the smells and the flavors and the people and the energy.  Did I mention ‘the people’?  Because there are a lot of people.

I love New York.  But it is a city that took a while to grow on me.  At first, I had a hard time dealing with the crowds.  And the sometimes-inconvenient transportation.  I’m also not a fan of the cold winters–or the wind that whips around the buildings.  Or the dogs in sweaters. Oh–and the crowds.

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Did I mention the crowds?

Because I have a thing about crowds.  The last time I was in the city I made the foolish mistake of trying to walk down 8th Ave. in midtown during rush hour.  I forgot about sidewalk traffic.  Whoops.

Do you really have to pee? Good luck with that.

Do you really have to pee? Good luck with that.

Yes, Manhattan is a small island filled with many, many people.  I’ve often wondered–if everyone came out of their respective apartments and office buildings at the same time, would be possible to fit everyone in the street?  I’m thinking ‘no’.

But with great crowds comes great rewards.  Case and point–Chelsea Market.  A visit to Chelsea Market  makes me want to move to New York.  Sure, I’d have to live in a 400 square foot walk up, but I’d have access to all of those olives.  And cheese.  And cupcakes.  Don’t ever forget the cupcakes.

Plus, if I moved there, I’d have one thing a tourist doesn’t have–my own toilet.  Which brings me to my point:

The public restroom in Chelsea Market is the cruelest restroom in the world.

It’s not just that the line is long–though the line is LONG (see photo above).  It’s that it is stupidly located directly adjacent to a water-feature art installation. Public restrooms like this require a regular plumbing service to avoid issues with the toilets or any other plumbing fixtures.

And by ‘water-feature art installation’ I mean ‘a rushing torrent of water that is complete torture if you really have to pee’.  And if you’re standing in line for the restroom at Chelsea Market, you really have to pee.  Because there’s no other reason why one would endure such a line–unless it led to the Pirates of the Caribbean ride in Disney’s Magic Kingdom.  And even then, it would almost not be worth it.

Because Pirates of the Caribbean doesn’t have a fantastic olive selection.  Or a spice market.  Or a wine vault, a Thai take-away, a gelato stand, or any artisan bread of any kind.

So I think Chelsea Market wins.  I’ll just make sure to avoid the coffee shop next time and I’ll be fine.