Photo by Alan Zilberman.
By DCist Contributor Alan Zilberman
Located in the heart of Shaw near Blagden Alley, Lost and Found is a great neighborhood bar (when it’s not too crowded). The key to its success is its shape: Long and not exactly narrow, there is plenty of space to establish a spot for you and your drunk idiot friends, even when they’re running twenty minutes late AGAIN. And since the back bar has a different draught selection than the front, that’s reason enough to start two tabs at once in the off-chance you want to get drunk doubly fast (you’ve considered it, don’t lie to yourself). Although the bathroom has its charms and unusual flourishes, its location creates a host of problems.
-3 For Illegal Gendered Facilities: The bathroom at Lost and Found has a men’s room, a women’s room, and a unisex bathroom. All the rooms are single-serving—there are no stall doors or anything—so the gendered facilities serve no actual purpose, and are actually illegal. But this also means lines for bathrooms become a clusterfuck. Let’s say I’m waiting for the men’s room, a woman is behind me, then the women’s room opens. By Lost and Found’s logic, cutting must occur. When I have to take a dump, this is more than mildly annoying.
+2 For a Urinal That Extends To The Floor: This is the sort of thing that makes me homesick. Instead of the typical urinal—where the porcelain stops just below the testicle line, roughly—these go all the way. Splash-back issues not withstanding, I like the potential to aim my stream wherever I goddamn well please.
-3 For Location: Most restaurant and bar bathrooms are tucked away in a corner, and for good reason. The bathrooms at Lost and Found are in the dead center of the bar, which leads to additional line chaos. Sure, most patrons are polite and accommodating of their follow inebriate, but there’s no stopping someone from the back bar to cut in line (and vice versa) because it’s difficult to determine where, exactly, it begins and ends. Hell, even stadium bathrooms have designated entrances and exits. Also, the bathroom area gets way too much foot traffic, which can be a nuisance if/when some idiot decides to queue up instead of ordering another round.
+1 For Re-Appropriated Wood: The walls of Lost and Found’s bathrooms are lined with planks of wood, all in varying color, which create a tranquil homelike effect without being too pretentious about it. It’s almost like visiting a buddy’s cabin in West Virginia or whatever, only to discover they never finished the painting job because they got too lazy. In a weird way, shouldn’t that be what all bars feel like?
-1 For a, Uh, Shitty Toilet: Look, I know that a bar’s staff cannot always be Johnny-on-the-spot whenever something goes wrong with the restroom. If a light is out or there’s no toilet paper, it’s our solemn duty as bar-goers to alert the proper person. Still, nothing leaves a bad first impression quite like a toilet pool that’s sullied by a spray of fecal matter particles, which is what greeted me when I entered the men’s room. I’d give a lower negative score, but this can happen anywhere. Hell, even the toilets at The White House must get nasty sometimes.
+2 For Hand-Drying Options: Lost and Found has a no frills paper towel dispenser; the kind that feeds additional towels through a simple funnel mechanism. Low tech and efficient, this is the sort of dispenser that is easy to refill and never requires any repair (unless, of course, someone punches it, Breaking Bad-style. Bad form, Walter).
Overall Score: -2. I’m not sure I see a solution here. With its central location, people can wander into the bathroom area and violate a small yet important social contract that all line queuers share. At the very least, they should open up all the facilities to both men and women. I imagine there are ladies out there who’d like a crack at that urinal.
