Patrick and I went to the new Midtown buildling to dine with some friends at the Union Square Tokyo last month.
That in itself is a whole ‘nother story that we will go into on Fugudiaries (hint: it was terrible), but afterwards, we both used the bathrooms as people are wont to do before they leave a place. Because the restaurant itself doesn’t have a bathroom, customers have to leave the place to use the common one on the floor. At Midtown, you walk down a hall. The first left is a larger private bathroom for the handicapped with automatic doors that you can open and close with a button. The second left is the mens’ room and the womens’ is at the far end.
Well, as we were coming out, the handicapped bathroom opened up, and we were surprised to see not one, but two people inside. A woman with a very short skirt and a skimpy top walked quickly out, while a man was still inside looking like he was throwing up in the sink or something. Patrick’s theory is that she was a prostitute since she walked out without saying a word to the guy.
Until that day, I actually liked the handicapped bathrooms because they were large, private and often available even when there was a line for the ladies’ room. I just hadn’t considered how else people might take advantage of its roomy interior. Now I know.