Washroom, disabled

Hmm, I seem to be developing an obsession with the CBC washrooms.

Our stalls remain blissfully free of ads, and I’m still unable to locate the mythical Queen’s Own Loo. But now there are more washrooms I’m not supposed to visit.CBC washroom for the disabled

A couple of days ago, new signs appeared on the doors of some of the handicapped washrooms in the Toronto CBC building:

This room is reserved for the use of staff and visitors with physical disabilities.

“Huh?” I thought to myself, “ONLY people with disabilities?” Not that I have strong feelings about the matter, but I’ve never heard of these washrooms being off-limits to the able bodied. And what prompted the signage? Were there complaints from people with disabilities who had to wait while the able-bodied used their johns? Is it poor form to use them at all? Or does our property manager just want to cut back on cleaning? I resolved to find out.

The disabled washroom on our floor is a single, unisex room with a separate entrance, located right between the regular men’s and women’s washrooms (the men’s has two stalls and a urinal; I can’t vouch for the women’s, though I’m betting it has fewer urinals.)

To my knowledge (and, as a CBC Fire Warden, I’m supposed to know) there are no employees with physical disabilities on our floor, and I’ve certainly never seen anyone waiting to use the special washroom. It’s generally only used in the following circumstances:

- When the regular ones are full (and since it’s located across from a boardroom used for meetings that last months at a sitting, this happens a fair bit.)

- When someone wants privacy. (I use it to change into my baseball gear. Once, I had an office and could change in comfort - and, less icky, on carpet - but after moving to a cubicle I found my colleagues just stared.)

- Since they ripped out our local “coffee station”, it’s the only place with a sink that you can use to fill the kettle. (Do you wanna make tea at the CBC?)

Even this minimal use has caused two rather amusing signage incidents in the past.

Once, a wiseass employee taped up a poll beside the toilet in there. The question: “Why have you chosen to use this disabled washroom?” The options went something like this:

- I’m disabled
- I like the extra space
- I make embarrasing sounds or smells
- I need somewhere to sleep/read/smoke dope

etc.

Another sign came courtesy of the poor slobs who had to work in the office across the hall from this washroom. Unlike the regular washrooms, the disabled ones have a single door instead of a double door - and apparently this makes them decidedly not soundproof.

The folks who had to work across from this washroom would be on the phone making business calls, and have to tune out the sorts of sounds that come from people who think they are eliminating in private. A paper sign was tacked up on the door requesting that users either use the main washrooms where possible, or be cognizant that the walls have ears.

That office has since been moved (they get cubicles too - are you sensing a trend? - which is no quieter) but handicapped washroom avoidance is now, it would seem, official policy.

Not that I have a problem with the change; I’ve never been clear on the etiquette of able-bodied people using them anyways.Handicapped washroom sign

Are these washrooms a dedicated resource for the disabled - like a parking spot - making their use by the able-bodied immoral or illegal? Or are they like wheelchair ramps - allowing accessibility to everyone?

Hell if I know. So I started poking around the internet.

One conversation took place on Everything2, under the title “Don’t use the handicapped stall“:

Unless, of course, you happen to be a handicapped person in which case you are one of a select few that should use it. Almost every time I go into the washroom at work the handicapped stall is occupied. Whenever I see somebody come out of it, he is an able-bodied, non-handicapped coworker. There’s something very wrong here.

The handicapped stall ought to be thought of the same way that the handicapped parking space is. Actually, I take that back. The handicapped stall is more rare than the handicapped parking space. If I see one handicapped space, I see at least two next to it. If I see a handicapped washroom stall, I see only one, and it’s tucked away in the corner of the washroom.

That view is rebutted later in the discussion:

Restroom stalls are not intended for the exclusive use by handicapped persons — one is supposed to immediately make them available to a handicapped person when possible, but otherwise, they are to be treated as any other toilet stall.

Why the difference? Because parking spaces and toilet stalls are fundamentally different facilities.

Toilet stalls are intended to provide privacy for attending to bodily functions such as elimination, changing sanitary napkins, etc. Sometimes people use stalls to change clothes. Some use them to quietly weep. In general, though, one can attend to business in a public restroom stall in less than two minutes.

Two very different points of view, but at least the discussion is civil. Not so, if you look to the debate in the blogosphere:

Woah, woah! HOLD ON DUDE. You mean only handicapped people can use handicapped toilets?

How come people have this notion that only the disabled can use facilities for the disabled? …. WTF is this? ….Sure, if I SEE that you are physically disabled, and you need to use the handicapped toilet, then yes, obviously I will let you use it and go use a normal toilet.

As far as I am concerned, you have a physical disability - and that is where you have a disadvantage. Your bladder is working fine isn’t it? So you wait, just like normal people do, when there is a queue for the toilet. The rest of us queue up to use a toilet - I don’t see why the disabled should be any different.

And the even less civil response:

BITCH, you should never ever used a handicap toilet in the first place if you’re an able person.

Get this, it’s for them. The space= it’s for the size of the wheelchair. The slope, it’s for the wheelchair too. You can walk down a slope, but they can’t slide down a flight of stairs, dumbass.

Working bladders? What makes you think they really have ones? What makes you think that it’s right for a handicap with incontinence to pee on herself/himself just because a dumbass like you was too lazy to wait at the other 6 cubicles.

You’re stupid, malicious and insensitive.

On the other hand, stupidity is a handicap. Perhaps that qualifies you for the handicap toilet.

Ouch.

Seeking sanity, I posed the question to Joe Clark, who - though seemingly able-bodied - knows more about accessibility than anyone I know (though he does tend to focus on accessibilty in media). Joe’s response to the sign:

“How do you know I’m not disabled?”

When I asked him about the propriety of admittedly able-bodied people using the disabled washrooms, here’s what he replied:

I do all the time. Tons more space.

Finally, I e-mailed SNC Lavalin Profac, the company that maintains our building, to ask for the official explanation. Today, they wrote back with the following:

We were receiving a lot of complaints from physically disabled people about inappropriate use of these facilities.

There goes my conspiracy theory about saving on Tilex. I showed the reply to Joe, and here’s his take:

The only *valid* complaint is “There’s only one washroom on the floor and somebody was in it when I needed it.” Then the complainant would have to prove they stuck around to see who was using it and knew for a fact that person wasn’t disabled.

I really wish there were a physically disabled colleague nearby that I could ask for an opinion. But there isn’t… which is what makes the sign seem so strange.

Anyone out there have any thoughts on the matter?

Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 03-23-2007 | 11:03 AM
Posted in: CBC | Apocalypse signs | Comments (24)

Neon light sign says it

Maybe I’ve been in the city too long, but I adore neon lights.

Manufacturers can do stunning things with LEDs and lasers and pixelboards these days, but there’s nothing like the old-school, gaudy charm of neon. Expensive, fragile, hard to shape, but timeless. Dangerous and friendly, sleazy and classy all in one.

As a kid, I used to love looking at neon tubes up close. The way you could see the gas flowing and glowing inside the tubes was mesmerizing and magical. I still stop and stare at them sometimes, but as an adult I look like an idiot when I do so.

I pass 48 neon signs on my way home from work - I counted (more on that later.)

So, last night I thought I’d snap a few pictures of the ones near my house. I looked like an idiot doing that, too, but you have to admit they are pretty in their own way.

Neon “open” signNeon “open” sign and window border
Neon Chinese food signNeon sign for ATM
Neon sign for New Broadview Hotel (Jilly’s)Neon taxi insurance sign
Neon sign for Ring MusicNeon sign for plant store
Neon telephone

Dig that phone? It sits on a desk in a street-level office on Queen St. Who cares if it even works?

Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 02-05-2007 | 10:02 PM
Posted in: Apocalypse signs | Comments (2)

Babewatch

Am I the only one who snickers to note that our local strip club is located on Broadview Avenue?

Jillys on Broadview

Sidewalk outside Jilly'sThe street art on the sidewalk is similarly amusing. The four corners of Broadview and Queen E. are inlaid with steel equations, part of Eldon Garnet’s “Time: And a clock” series that runs from the Don River to Empire Ave.

The sidewalk outside Jilly’s just happens to have the one that says “Time is money : Money is time”.

Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 12-05-2006 | 02:12 AM
Posted in: Apocalypse signs | Toronto | Comments (0)

…and Die-ee?

F'Coffee coffee shop window

F'Coffee storefrontThe new Starbucks may be getting all the buzz, but this new-ish coffee shop on my stretch of Queen St. E. has the ballsiest name.

I love it!

Their organic coffee and fresh-baked muffins are pretty darned good, too. And their menu lists something called “The All-Butter Butter Tart”… mmmmmm.

Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 11-29-2006 | 01:11 PM
Posted in: Apocalypse signs | Toronto | Comments (0)

No commuters!

No Commuters sign in Toronto

I spotted this new (I think) sign outside the Metro Toronto Convention Centre today. Please tell me what it means:

What does this signify?

View Results

Loading ... Loading …

Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 11-27-2006 | 02:11 PM
Posted in: Apocalypse signs | Commuting | Comments (1)

Playing in traffic

crosswalk timerThe crosswalk outside CBC, at the corner of Front St. and John St., has gone digital.

Digital watch, that is - in addition to the regular crosswalk signs (White Man says walk, Red Hand says halt!) and noises (chirping) there’s now a timer that counts down how many seconds you have left to cross the street.

I’ve never seen this before. It’s quite mesmerizing, actually - I end up staring at the time remaining instead of getting my ass to safety. You get something like 20 seconds to cross - seven seconds of white hand safety, then 13 seconds until you get greased by a Hippo bus.

I don’t understand the need for it, but I love it. It’s like one of those Hollywood movie time bombs ticking away, or the Christmas tree lights at a drag strip.

I’ve only crossed there twice since the installation, and already I’m inventing games to play with the countdown. How fast can I cross? How late in the count can I go before I dash? What will my personal best be?

And I can only imagine the elderly tourist staring at those seconds draining away, terrified that they won’t make it, and staying on one side of the street forever. As a colleague pointed out, knowing the number of seconds remaining is only useful if you know how long it takes you to cross the street.

This is going to take some practice.

Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 11-21-2006 | 06:11 PM
Posted in: Apocalypse signs | Comments (0)

Passing the ‘bucks

Lesliebucks - coming soonAs you can see from this photo (from Joe Clark’s Flickr, via Leslieville.org), my little corner of Leslieville is inches away from having a new Starbucks.

Joe has a great site about this impending event, and my neighbours are torn between being excited about drinking the coffee and being excited about the implications to their property values. Hurray… Leslieville can now overcharge for both!

I’d better brush up on my lingua barista, though. I went to the Starbucks by CBC today, and the woman in front of me ordered the following (and this is verbatim):

One tall no-fat sugar-free vanilla latte extra hot no whipped cream

And the guy behind the counter (I guess he’d be a barista, but wouldn’t the male term be baristo? Or is barista just pretend language?) repeated the order exactly, from memory, to the guy actually pouring the coffee. But that guy had to write furiously on the cup, spiraling around the thing twice.

Which makes me ask, what’s the point of this relay process anyhow? It seems to be particular to Starbucks. You say your order, and the cashier just says it again to someone else, who goes and makes it. Couldn’t I tell him or her directly, or couldn’t the person at the cash go get the coffee?

This seems to be an institutionalized version of the broken telephone game. Except the words are more complicated, and you have to drink the final product.

And overpay for it.

Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 11-20-2006 | 05:11 PM
Posted in: Apocalypse signs | Comments (1)

Signage of the Apocalypse #5

Livin’ the stereotype

My sister snapped this photo of a pickup truck we were following along the 401 yesterday. Note the Alberta plates, and the bumper sticker that says, “Keep Honking, I’m Reloading”.I’m not sure if it was affixed with any sense of irony, but it’s pretty damned funny.

Alberta pickup truck

(Click photo to enlarge)

Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 10-24-2006 | 01:10 AM
Posted in: Apocalypse signs | Comments (0)

Signage of the Apocalypse #4

Widows in every room

There’s nothing I like better than mistakes in posters of stuff for sale or rent. Particularly when they are posted in a building full of 1,000 journalists.

The Canadian Broadcasting Centre has bulletin boards by each elevator, each jammed with ads for various things for sale. People waiting for the elevators have plenty of time to mull them over, and plenty of time to make editorial suggestions.

Here’s one I noticed today, with the comments added by a helpful editor.

house for rent ad
[Previous Signage entries: 1, 2, 3]

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Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 09-20-2006 | 02:09 PM
Posted in: Apocalypse signs | Comments (1)

Signage of the Apocalypse #3

If it’s too inept…

If you read my haphazard Blogger profile, you’ll notice that one of my favourite books is Sherwood Anderson’s Winesburg, Ohio. It’s a sad and wonderful collection of short stories about small-town characters, woven together by the experiences of a young reporter named George Willard.

Like George, I grew up and got my first newspaper gig in a small town. And like George, there was a defining moment when I knew I had to leave.

Now, unlike George, my departure wasn’t facilitated by a death, a failed romance, a fight and an adolescent epiphany - though it did make me briefly consider my hometown (Woodstock, Ont. - hmm, it even sounds like that book title) to be “squalid and commonplace.”

My epiphany was written on the back of a 1970 Chevelle.

Woodstock is one of those towns with a “main drag”, where the main dragsters cruise endlessly and pointlessly up and down all night long (Dundas Street, from the Tim’s to the McD’s and back), showing off their pseudo-muscle cars with their Cragar rims and chrome headers and whatnot.

Some of these cars had catchy slogans (or car stereo brands) plastered across their back windows. The Chevelle in question had the following, stuck on with those gold-coloured, trapezoidal letters that people used to use for boat numbers and mailboxes:


OK, so this graphic is a mock-up based on my fuzzy memory - it could have been a Malibu or a 442, and I don’t know if it was powder blue - but the spelling has HAUNTED ME FOREVER.

Four spelling mistakes in seven words! You couldn’t do worse if you tried.

I’d think that if you were driving down to the Canadian Tire or the Co-Op to buy letters to permanently pimp your ride with a classic, stick-it-to-the-man phrase (anyone know where it originated?), you might check the spelling with a friend who had passed Grade 10. But no, 1980s Woodstonian, you did not.

One look at that car, and I knew my time was up. Like George Willard, I packed my bags and left town for good, letting Woodstock “become but a background on which to paint the dreams of my manhood.”

Except my manhood will go through a spell checker first.

[Previous Signage of the Apocalypse here and here. Apologies for the posting gap - I was having “broken pipe” problems between Blogger and Netfirms, which seem to have been resolved. For now.]

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Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 09-08-2006 | 02:09 PM
Posted in: Apocalypse signs | Comments (2)

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