eviewing Tim Hortons’ washroom at Granville Skytrain station was a bit of a homecoming for me. It was inside, six years ago, my ex-wife’s future divorce lawyer, Alfonso Americana, ominously warned me not to go in. It wasn’t even six p.m. and there was already a critic. Ignoring the broken lock sign, I bravely stepped in as I always liked forming my own opinion. Soon, I found myself in a classic bathroom brawl with an angry pants-less lawyer, and was banned. Due to legal restrictions, this washroom was the last big question mark of my career. So when I began this assignment, there was a deep sense of dread. To start, it was two weeks overdue; but, more importantly, I was afraid. Could I truly encapsulate this grandiose layered cultural experience?
Let’s begin with a central issue for washroom reviews: accessibility. Here, the loo becomes a serious contender for the washroom of the year in Vancouver. The best feature is its easily reachable location. Next to a liquor store and across a closed hot dog joint, it remains an uncontested place for busy commuters to empty their bowels as they don’t have to run very far from the Skytrain. Unfortunately, this location relies on the ancient fetch-a-key quest for users. We all have dreams, I can only hope the future has socially progressed to where we can finally flush away these medieval requirements. That said, I can forgive this grievance as it does give me a reason to talk with people, outside my dreams, once again.
Like many other Tim Hortons washrooms, it is a one-person lavatory. It is a clear division between the private and public on the issue of washroom usage. It is as if one must have moments to step away from society when defecating. A stoic philosophy I sometimes had trouble grasping as it didn’t always align with my turbulent life in the (very) fast lane. Here lies the one true throne of solitude in one of Vancouver’s busiest areas. Of course, this will sadden those looking forward to shooting the shit with someone in their final act of digestion.
...THE ROOM'S SIZE IS BIG ENOUGH FOR A SMALL HORSE.
Washing over the room, there’s a pale azure-blue fluorescent light that evokes George Orwell by the way of French New Wave. How this quasi-dystopian experience aligns with Tim Hortons’ mission to be a quality leader in all their tasks is an issue best left to philosophers. Overall, the ambience presents an existentialist crisis as you leave the cheery demure of Tim Hortons to the cold and oppressive feeling of Big Brother watching you. What a weirdo! Thus, upon evacuating your bowels here, you may have odd epiphanies about Tim Hortons, corporations, and surveillance. But, it’s always important to think deeply once in a while, and this washroom easily facilitates that.
To close, easy access to a washroom is the divine right of all over-entitled people in a first-world country. Looking back, I feel Alfonso completely missed the point. And the toilet seat. Not only is the washroom just 163-metres from the Skytrains; more importantly, Tim Hortons elevates a universal daily experience into high art. Leaving Tim Hortons’ washroom after three hours, I felt excitement and hope once again for this career.