Photo by Alan Zilberman.

By DCist Contributor Alan Zilberman

Located adjacent to Red Apron Butchery in the heart of Penn Quarter, The Partisan is a welcome reprieve from most bars in the area. Since there is no happy hour and the bar is well beyond the front door, the spot is dark and cool. Come to think of it, The Partisan is probably a good first date place since it won’t be chock full of dudebros who look for a $5 macro-brew special (the beer list, which even includes a triple IPA, is excellent). Like the establishment, the bathroom is confident and austere, yet the handsome bells and whistles are clever form of deception.

-4 for a non-functioning lock: The men’s room at The Partisan has one stall and one urinal, and there’s a lock on the door. When I first noticed it, I was delighted and thought, “All this is for me! How luxurious!” Then I turned the lock and realized there’s no deadbolt attached to it. Double checking, I opened the door slightly and turned the lock again. Nothing happened, so the lock is a sham! Either have no lock on the door, or have one that works. I don’t appreciate the tease.

+3 for a clever bathroom sign: While I support unisex bathrooms across the board—especially when a bar/restaurant has so few facilities available—I do enjoy a good bathroom sign. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw “DEPARTMENT OF GENTLEMEN” emblazoned on the door. Not only does the sign maintain the theme of the bar, it adds a level of droll irony since there’s absolutely nothing gentlemanly about what goes on inside it.

-3 for the illusion of complete stall privacy: While I’m not a hard-liner on the subject, I agree with George Constanza that all stall doors should come all the way to the floor. The Partisan’s stall has a fully functioning door, complete with a thick wall, which should offer the chance to poop with tranquility and comfort. But then I looked toward the ceiling, and realized that there’s maybe 18 inches between the top of the stall wall and the ceiling. It’s all one room, so the stall privacy is also a sham!

+1 for a well-lit sink area: Sources of light matter in a place like The Partisan, where darkness is the defining characteristic. At the sink, two lamps are behind the mirror, and the cumulative effect is that I look more handsome/attractive than I actually am. This is the sort of illusion I can get behind, particularly when a bathroom visit is, um, explosive.

+2 for hand-drying options: The Partisan has an Xlerator hand drier, which I’ve written about in this column before. If the Dyson Air Blade is The Beatles, then the Xlerator is Oasis, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. I always like the rush of the air, as well as the subsequent dampening effect it has on my hands.

Overall score: -1. There is an implied trust whenever a bar patron enters the bathroom. Its size, shape, and features should not be merely for show. A lock must lock, just as a wall must run the height of a room. If The Partisan’s bathroom weren’t so duplicitous, it’d be one of the better ones in the city.