Public restrooms are never pretty. At best, they're clean, utilitarian, and stocked.
Concert venues are, in particular, hot spots for awfulness in the public restroom arena. Even the cleanest, most well-stocked loo can turn into a soggy mess after visits from a few particularly intoxicated patrons.
We sympathize with venues. We really do. Those drunken hordes are quite the chaos element, and they can throw a wrench into even the most well-planned cleanup operation.
But we think we've stepped over enough piles of puke-soaked toilet paper to earn some bitching rights. And we've certainly been to enough foul facilities to formulate a list of the worst venue bathrooms in the Dallas music scene. See our list in full after the jump.
For the record, your humble reporter is female, so these are all women's rooms. And let's face it: If the ladies' room is bad, the men's room has to be worse.
Reno's Chop Shop Saloon. Sloshing through an inch of water on the floor
and maneuvering around the mountainous piles of toilet paper is just
the first step. Odds of being cornered by a crying drunk girl who wants
to tell you the whole story of her latest breakup while you're trying
to locate paper towels to dry your hands? Two to one. Odds of actually
finding paper towels to dry your hands? Ten to one. That's because they're all in a soggy
pile on the floor. Wipe your hands on your jeans and run before the
crying girl starts trying to hug you.
Lee Harvey's. The bathroom is located right in the line of traffic, so
be prepared to bump into people while waiting in line. And, once you get in,
remember: That water bug is smaller than you, it can't hurt you. Screaming will only make it worse.
Adair's Saloon. We went in to take pictures during the day, when most
venue bathrooms are at their best. And yet the bathroom at Adair's still stunk to high heaven. The graffiti-covered walls in the venue itself? A good indicator of
what the graffiti-covered bathrooms look like.
Gexa Energy Center. The bathrooms themselves are smelly, but I guess they're
not that bad once you get through the 15-minute line. Just remember to leave during the last song of a set if you want to make it back
to your seat before the next band starts. Because, yes, the line really does start
way back there.
Lakewood Bar and Grill. The lock on the one stall's door doesn't work,
and the toilet's frequently backed up. While you ponder your options,
be warned: That drunk woman who's next in line will take 10 minutes to
slur out how nice your eye makeup is. And you have to back away pretty
forcefully to get her to let go of your arm.
Club Dada. Going into this restroom during the day isn't bad, but
there's one tiny toilet in a sizable venue, which is a recipe for
disaster. Be prepared to wait in line. And snag some napkins from the
bar in case the toilet paper is out.
