Finding Bathrooms Out and About During Third Trimester

Now that I had had my not-so-short short haircut on Friday, I felt like celebrating a little. So that afternoon, just before leaving the Aveda Institute, I did the very prudent thing: Because I was in Manhattan and because I knew that I was going to be doing some walking, I first emptied my bladder in an available bathroom facility for which I'd been a paying customer.  There aren't a plethora of bathrooms in NYC. You can't just walk into a restaurant or bar and use a bathroom. In fact, several establishments got smart and have posted in their windows announcements which read, "Bathrooms for paying customers only." Even Starbucks, my longtime bathroom saviour with its no-questions-asked free bathrooms, recently decided to join the bandwagon of not having facilities at the public's disposal (too many people caught on and were using Starbucks as a pee spot without purchasing anything. However, being the frequent bathroom user than I am, even during non-pregnancy, would compel me to purchase something out of guilt 50% of the time). Starbucks simply sealed up their bathrooms or turned them into storage closets. So, when going out for the day in Manhattan, be prepared to go to restaurants for your meals or to several sit-down coffee houses, so that you can use their bathroom, otherwise, you will be in a precarious situation wondering where you will empty yourself.  Even in Central Park, there are very few bathrooms. You might have a twenty minute walk inside the park before you reach a bathroom. And it might be locked up for the season. Or it might be very unclean. Or there might be a huge line. Madison Park has port-a-potties that are clean. You pay $.25. But when you are in your third trimester, this is not the place to go. So after leaving the Aveda Institute, fully relieved, I started on my TriBeCa journey, meandering through some neat streets, making my way up to Washington Square Park, through the Village and ending up at Union Square (where there are absolutely no bathrooms). During that adventure, I went to the bathroom four more times. I stopped at a cafe and ordered a decaf skim latte, making sure I used their bathroom before I left. The coffee hit me hard about 15 minutes later. By that time I was near NYU.  You have to be a student with a swipeable i.d. card to get into any of the buildings. But I was getting desperate. Desperation and pregnancy are a good fit because as soon as the security guards saw me, I was practically whisked away to the nearest bathroom with white glove treatment.  Next stop was Washington Park. Sure enough, the urge resurfaced. I was just about to go back to the NYU library when I spotted a bathroom facility in the park. It was quite dirty but at least there was toilet paper and no line. I squatted, which is a very good exercise to do anyway.  Now, I had the 8 block walk to Union Square ahead of me. Would I make it? There is little chance to go to the bathroom around Union Square unless you're prepared to part money with an expensive lunch at Blue Water Grill, which I wasn't about to do.  Halfway up Fifth Avenue, I spotted an art gallery I wanted to check out. It was a very interesting place filled with art on the walls set in an 18th century city mansion. I perused the fantastic paintings and headed downstairs to the colonial-style restaurant where I knew I'd struck gold upon discovering a beautiful, probably little known, pink-tiled bathroom parlour.  I pampered myself a little and lingered on.  No one questioned a pregnant woman descending the stairs and re-appearing half an hour later.  I left contentedly relieved of a full bladder, reached Union Square, got on the subway, and returned home...just in time to go to the bathroom. :) :)