Disclaimer so we don't get sued: This isn't the Tea Lounge bathroom (which, all things considered, is actually pleasant). [ed note: SERIOUSLY?? I ACTUALLY FIND THE TEA LOUNGE BATHROOM TO BE SRSLY VILE]. This is the old CBGB bathroom. But I'm busy providing photographic ponderance material, so go with me here.
This past weekend, I spent a total of nine hours loitering in the Tea Lounge (with good reason, I assure you): seven on Saturday, and then another two on Sunday. (To be fair, the ratio of $$ to time I spent may work out to a number that leans more towards "squatting" than "loitering.")
Because downing three large, light ice, hazelnut iced coffees with nonfat milk and a Splenda (in case any of you are dying to buy me a drink next time I'm editing) over the course of five hours is basically the equivalent of consuming a box of diuretic pills like they're Flintstones vitamins, I headed to that bathroom a few times. And let me tell you, Park Slope; the pearls of wisdom you've left up on those walls for urinators to read--well, I'm speechless.