Photo by Alan Zilberman.
Welcome back to Dear John, a column that ranks the bathrooms at some of D.C.’s most well-known establishments.
By DCist contributor Alan Zilberman
Columbia Heights’ The Coupe, an all-night establishment from the guy who brought us Tryst and The Diner, has become a favorite spot for those who aren’t ready to go home after last call. It has a generous menu, including jalapeno-laced poutine, but that’s not the reason we’re discussing it here. When Dear John premiered two weeks ago, the most common reaction was, “What about the women’s’ room?” I’m not a big enough creep to review the women’s room—sorry to disappoint you—but the next best thing is a true unisex bathroom. In its unique way, The Coupe offers precisely that:
+7 for equality: The Coupe features several non-gendered private stalls, complete with a helpful “vacant/occupied” indicator just above the door knob. There is usually a gender split between the women’s and men’s room, so in comparison this feels like an egalitarian paradise.
-8 for inadequately stocked toilet paper: When I recently visited The Coupe, the first two stalls had no toilet paper. I was there for a couple hours, and these stalls were never restocked. For a bathroom that breaks down barriers – I mean figurative barriers, not stall doors – this is deadly since no toilet paper in effect turns a unisex bathroom into a private men’s stall.
+3 for design/artistry: The mirror is the enemy of every person who sits on a toilet. If I’ve got a perfect view of myself on the shitter, then I’ll do my best to avert my gaze (starring at the floor or ceiling is the best technique). There are mirrors in The Coupe’s stalls, but they’re at eye level when standing, not sitting, so they’re a thoughtful addition. Also, every stall ceiling in The Coupe has unique, thoughtful wallpaper. Strike what I said earlier: staring upward is the best technique.
-2 for shared sinks: I went back and forth on this one. It’s rare to have the opportunity to wash my hands while standing next to a woman, and I appreciate this forced equality. But I don’t think I’m adequately prepared to share a portion of my bathroom experience with the opposite gender. What if I do something truly terrible in the stall? It’s bad enough when I have to avoid eye contact with my fellow man; a woman would only compound this feeling of abject shame. At least a private restroom with a sink creates the illusion of separation: my bathroom experience is complete before someone else enters to experience what hell I’ve unleashed.
+1 for effective hand dryers: The hand dryers in The Coupe get the job done, but I get no sense of their power. This leaves a feeling of yearning for the XELERATOR or the Dyson Air Blade. Sure, my hands are dry, yet I’d prefer paper towels over this tepid offering.
Overall score: +1.This is an adequate bathroom, but its formal experiments are a mixed blessing. At least it’ll be an interesting topic of conversation as your late night buzz wears off.
