Well, it's come the time for us to reflect on toilets in Boston and their state...their sexy state....

piss-poor

stop your snickerin'! I spent three years on that terlet!

Say wut?

Toilets? What toilets??
On the hottest, muggiest of days, a person is going to be drinking mass amounts of liquids to keep themselves running like a well maintained machine. No one wants to be dragged down by their body's need to collapse under the weight of mother nature's huge ass.
People also have the need to keep themselves energized while hydrated, so iced coffee is an obvious choice(albeit the wrong one in the end[no pun intended]). If you're like me, and you have an average everyday Joe stomache, too much coffee will wreak havoc on your colone and make for the finest of shit waltzes to the nearest facility.
In Boston though, the shouts of "no public bathroom" ring hard from over every counter top. If you attempt to use construction port-a-potties, they yell at you before you even touch the door handle.

And pay to poop stations? Give me a fucking break. You use all your coins in the parking meters and never have enough for those big black deathtraps.

So, in summation, I say: Toilets? What toilets?

(i'm bored at the office. can you tell?)

i can tell

boston is the fucking worst for trying to find a public toilet. you better be either in A.) a restaurant as a paying customer or B.) make it to the visitors booth at the common. otherwise, you're shitting your pants.

just tell them that you have IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) and that you left your ID card at home. If they don't know what it is, tell them you're about to shit on their floor, and that by law they need to let you (a person suffering from a debilitating disease) use their toilet.

Or just go into the first nice resteraunt you see, act like you want to sit, then say "oh, before i sit, where's your bathroom?" That's what i do, but i always want to claim IBS.

i likw toilets

I once ran into the Courtyard Hotel in the theater district (Chinatown T stop). The door man let me right in and no one stopped me to ask where I was going. I just walked through the lobby, found the bathrooms, and took a crap like a king.

Went back on another occasion too

classy hotel shitting is the way to go

one time i was walking through Natick at 6:30 in the morning, still 2 miles from work, and i had to shit, you know the one i mean, IMCOMINGOUTANDTHERESNOTHINGYOUCANDOTOSTOPME!!!! so i started heading towards the woods near a playground, and lo and behold there was a brand new, unused porto-john in the parking lot. it was magical.

hahaha THIS is magical.