Reviews of New York City's subway bathrooms

If you’re desperate enough to use the subway toilet, will you consult Yelp first? Which stall, I wonder, has the right ambiance?

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Why do you call them ‘bathrooms?’ Did they all have bathtubs/showers in them?

Who put the ape in the apricot?

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Or the cot . . .

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What have they cot?

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What have they apri?

Properly guarded musk?

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All those years taught me that one should “decant” at home (or some other safe location) prior to getting on the subway. Most rides were not long, but one never knew if some problem (mechanical/electrical issue or public incident) would pop up to make the stay a long one.

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To my knowledge, there are no public restrooms in Chicago’s public transit system (not including the commuter train stations). To my knowledge, there are no un-padlocked public restrooms in all of Chicago, except at museums, zoos and the like. But we have alleys, pedways and lower (and lower-lower) streets that reek of all manner of bodily emanations; so we got that going for us, which is nice.

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Whenever I’m in NYC, I just look for the nearest Starbucks. They keep the bathrooms open and relatively clean. Though the line can sometimes be longer than the one for coffee…

That being said, last time I was there I used the men’s room at the Coney Island-Stillwell Ave Station after meeting a friend for lunch at Totonno’s and hanging out at the boardwalk for a while. Wasn’t too bad. Or should I say - not as bad as you would think it would be.

“I’d rather clean all the bathrooms in Grand Central Station with my tongue
Than spend one more minute with you”

-Weird Al Yankovich, backhandedly reviewing the cleanliness of NYC bathrooms.

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There are public washrooms… then there’s (now was?) this: Feeling courageous one night (because there’s strength and safety in numbers), some uni friends and I together visited a couple of “those” places on (and off) 42nd street. You know what I’m talking about. This was way before the area cleanup that began in earnest, I think, in the 90s. Anyway, at one of our stops, one in our group went into the establishment’s washroom, almost immediately came out, then suggested that we all have a look at the it. Walls and ceiling painted flat black, the room – its floor sticky – was bare but for an old style bathtub. No toilet. The tub was the urinal. I leave the odor to your imagination.

Based on the bouquet of New York City subway cars, I just assumed there were no bathrooms.

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