The Orlando Hotel - What a find!

Home sweet home. Who would have guessed that this hotel offers one of the best public shitters in the neighborhood! After a disappointing and hurried sacrifice at Toast, I knew there would be another offering as the day progressed. The problem, as always, would be finding a suitable temple. A Ben and Jerry's banana milk shake at The Grove didn't help matters and by the time I had walked back to 3rd street I was at an elevated Code Red. Toast was a no go. There was no way I was risking waiting in line for a half hour or more. My wife, god bless her, suggested I try The Orlando hotel. The friendly woman at check-in didn't even blink when I asked to use the facilities. "2nd Floor, make a right, shit as long as you like," she said with a smile. Or at least the shit as long as you like part. I made a beeline up to the 2nd floor and found a glorious, empty, well-lit, three ply, single stall, shit station of the gods waiting for me. If crappers were universities than I had been given a full fecal fellowship and by Zeus I was going to take advantage of it!

For a good half hour I enjoyed absolute silence and quiet contemplation. The world outside melted away as I let my mind drift and my body do its thing. Above average toilet paper, soft lighting, and absolute privacy were all I needed to erase the bad memory of Toast. Thank you, Orlando Hotel. I owe you!

Toast - 3rd St. in Hollywood

Great food, terrible facilities. For a restaurant this crowded you'd think they'd have more than one male, one female, and one co-ed crapper. The co-ed one, I believe, is a non-entity seeing how no self-respecting male can spend the requisite ten to fifteen minutes honestly emptying his bowels without fear of walking out to a gaggle of pissed off chicks. Fortunately, I wasn't in a hurry and like any good foreman I showed up at the dump site a good ten minutes before I expected my men to arrive. The room itself is dimly lit and not well kept. And if the urinal was a castle and the puddle of piss surrounding it a moat, not even Achilles would have braved its rancid yellow waters.

Toilet paper was thin and two-ply. Soap was unmemorable. Overall this place is recommended only as a last resort or if you're in absolutely no rush.

Crap Free As I Wanna Be - Will Rogers State Park

Yesterday's two public, and one private, offerings took a toll on the Crapspotter and as of this post his bowels are mercifully yet to make so much as a peep.

The weather in L.A. is exactly as the guide books describe it and so my wife and I decided to take our little girl for a hike at Will Rogers State Park. After a light breakfast of Buffalo milk cappuccino-flavored yogurt, fresh coconut juice, two homemade chewy oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and a few sips of decaf coffee with non-fat milk, I was a little concerned about my future state of affairs and considered popping a hit of Imodium just to be safe. Fortunately, both the weather and my stomach prevailed and I was able to enjoy a pleasant, anxiety-free morning of hiking with my family.

If ever there was an act of intestinal hubris this was it. So confident in my stomach was I that I didn't even bother to create a mental GPS of the park's four public port-o-potties. That the Turd Gods didn't smite me down on the spot is a miracle and for that I am forever in their debt. In my defense, however, the park does charge a $7 entrance fee per vehicle so I'm guessing that their facilities are above average. I'm not saying I'm not grateful oh Lords of the Light Brown Links, I'm just saying I probably would have been okay.

Driving home there was still not so much as a rumble so I confidently stopped by the Zen Zoo on 26th St. for Green Dragon boba lattes with soy milk.

REI Outfitters @ 4th St. and Santa Monica Blvd.

The combination of pricey holiday shopping and rich, buttery foods have been tricky on the Crapspotters tender Yiddish stomach, and I found myself in desperate need of a public drop off center for the second time in one day. It should be mentioned that I don't love making in public. It's a rushed, harried, unenjoyable business that, if it weren't for a very sensitive and demanding digestive tract, I would gladly avoid. However, I sincerely believe that by sharing information on the world's best public restrooms I, and others like me, can improve our plight. Information is knowledge, knowledge is power, poop is brown and firm when it's healthy according to my mom.

Standing equidistant from Banana Republic and REI, I did a mental coin flip and opted for the latter. I'm also a member there and believe, although not too strongly, that the busier the place looks the better it is for business and that this somehow translates into good things for me. Like future discounts on items such as Xenon camping headlamps. Which if you know me at all, know how important they are to my lifestyle.

Although my supple, perfectly sculpted behind had graced the faux-porcelain here on prior occasions, I had never taken the time to really study the space. First off, and most importantly, THE RESTROOMS ARE COIN OPERATED. Not necessarily a deal breaker, but seeing as you can only get said coins from the cashiers located on the first floor, it's important to stop by and see them first. I'm pretty sure anyone who asks can have a coin, but this may not be true. If it were, why would they require a coin in the first place? Who won't they give a coin to? As my bowels were already at Code Red, I decided not to find out, smiled politely and gratefully received my ticket to slide.

On the plus side, the double stalls are both spacious and well maintained. There was ample toilet paper and my particular recepticle even had a back up roll. Both rolls were industrial size, approzimately 10" in diamater, so there's little chance of ever running out.

Somewhat negatively, the hand soap provided by the company is generic, unscented, commercial grade, and it left my hands feeling dry and unloved. I understand the economics of providing quality hand soap aren't necessarily in a profitable company's best interest, but something like Dr. Bronner's (a quirky, low-cost, biodegrable and high quality soap they already carry) would add a nice touch.

All in all, this is a pleasant spot for relaxing your sphincter. Just remember to get the coin before heading upstairs and you'll be good to go.

A Clean, Well-Lighted Place for Crapping - Banana Republic @ The Third St. Promenade

Located on the Southwest corner of Wilshire and the 3rd St. Promenade, this gem of a shitter has been delighting urethras and anuses alike since opening its stall doors for business in 1999. The bathrooms are privately located down the stairs on the basement level. The toilet-paper is two-ply and soft enough for up to four wipes for even those with the most tender of turd canals.

Beware, if you have to go really badly, the men's restroom features only one crapper. A good rule of thumb for approaching this location is to assume it's occupied, that way your sphincter is pleasantly surprised if it's not.

As of this post, there are no paper towels, only air-dryers at this location. Wait time is less than one minute.