The Comfort Station

At the foot of the steps

The hall from the foot of the steps: the steps and the lift going up on the left to the daylight in the path; the ceiling a grid of glass prisms, each a lit point; the white tile with its green band at the height of a hand; the basins under one long mirror with a step folded away under the lowest; a bench with cushions; the cabinet by the steps; and the row of oak doors, each with a little brass plate over it saying FREE or IN USE. The light lies on the terrazzo in a grid of dots, and nothing moves.

The light

The light comes through the pavement. Set into the path overhead are vault lights: round glass prisms in a cast-iron grid, the old way of getting daylight into a room under a street. Each prism takes the light that falls on it and bends it down into the room, so the ceiling is a grid of small lit points and the light lies on the terrazzo in a grid of dots, brightest under the bench.

The glass has gone faintly violet with age, the way old glass with manganese in it does after a century in the sun, so the dots are the colour of daylight with a little violet in it. Prisms bend light without spreading it into colours here: there is no rainbow down these steps, only dots.

By day no lamp is needed. Nothing down here moves at any setting: the dots lie where the sun puts them, and the sun is not hurried.

What every stall down here has

Every public restroom on the street has all of this. Under each, the comfort station’s own way of doing it.

• For everybody

  Every stall is for everybody, of every gender and none, and for anybody helping somebody else. No sign on the door says who may come in.

  Over the steps the enamel sign says COMFORT STATION and nothing else: no figure in a skirt and no figure in trousers, because every door down here is for whoever comes down the steps, and for whoever is helping them.

• Toilets and urinals

  Toilets, and urinals too, each behind its own door.

  The toilets are white porcelain with oak seats, and the urinals stand behind oak doors of their own, the same height as every other door in the row.

• Wheelchair accessible

  Step-free from the street, with a door that opens without a fight, room to turn a wheelchair right round, and grab bars beside and behind every toilet.

  Beside the steps a lift goes down to the hall with a door that opens at the press of a big brass button, the hall is wide enough to turn round anywhere in it, and there are brass grab bars beside and behind every toilet.

• A step at the sink

  A Step ’n Wash under the basins: a step that folds out from under the sink for children, and for anybody else the basin is too high for, and folds itself away again.

  The basins are a long row of white porcelain under one long mirror, and under the lowest of them a Step ’n Wash folds out at a nudge of the foot and folds itself away again.

• Changing tables

  A changing table for a baby, and a height-adjustable one big enough for an adult, with a hoist, because a grown body needs changing too and almost nowhere has room for it.

  At the end of the row is a room of its own with a changing table that folds down from the tile for a baby, and a long one that rises and lowers for an adult, with a hoist on a track across the ceiling.

• Menstrual products

  Pads and tampons, free, in every stall, so nobody has to ask or carry anything.

  A brass dispenser on the wall of every stall gives pads and tampons with no slot for a coin, because there is nothing to pay.

• Condoms

  Condoms, free, in a bowl you can take from without being seen.

  Condoms are in a glass bowl on the shelf by the basins, where anybody can take a handful without anybody noticing.

• Sharps disposal

  A sharps box for needles, fixed to the wall in every stall, so nobody has to find somewhere else to put one.

  Every stall has a sharps box set into the tile with a yellow lid, so a needle has somewhere safe to go.

• Naloxone

  Naloxone, free, in a cabinet by the door with how to use it written on the inside, because it reverses an opioid overdose and somebody may need it before help comes.

  The naloxone is in a glass-fronted cabinet at the foot of the steps, with how to use it painted on the inside of its door, and the cabinet is never locked.

• Somewhere to sit

  Comfortable seats outside the stalls, for waiting, for whoever is helping somebody, and for a minute to yourself.

  Along the wall across from the stalls runs a long bench with cushions, under the brightest dots from the prisms, for whoever is waiting, whoever is helping, and whoever needs a minute.

• Soap and paper towels

  Soap, warm water and paper towels.

  The soap is in brass pumps along the basins and the paper towels in oak boxes beside the mirror, and the water comes warm.

• No air dryers

  No air dryers. They are loud enough to hurt, and some of us cannot go in a room that has one.

  There is no air dryer down here, and the tile, which says every sound twice, would make one unbearable.

• Private stalls

  Every stall a small room of its own, its door down to the floor and up to the ceiling, with a light over it that says free or in use in words as well as colour.

  Each stall is a small oak room with its door from the floor to the ceiling, and over every door a small brass plate lights up FREE on green or IN USE on red, in words as well as colour.

• Shelves and hooks

  A shelf and a hook in every stall, for a bag, a coat, a cane or a phone, so nothing goes on the floor.

  Inside every door is a shelf of white tile and a brass hook, high enough for a coat and low enough to reach from a chair.

• Clear signs

  Signs in words and pictures, big, at a height you can read sitting down, with raised letters and braille.

  Every sign is enamel, white letters on the tile's own green, big enough to read from the foot of the steps, hung low enough to read sitting down, with raised letters and braille under every word.

• Free, and nobody asks

  Free to use, at any hour, with nothing to buy first and nobody asking why you are there.

  There is no turnstile at the top of the steps and no booth at the bottom, and nobody down here asks anybody anything.

On the wall by the basins

A young Stimpunk, a baseball fan, coined the term “stallbatting”. Stallbatting is interfering with someone going to the bathroom of their choosing.

Everyone uses the bathroom and gender is a construct.

The right to safe and accessible public restrooms is also important for adults and older children who need accommodation, assistance, or supervision.

Naloxone, also known as Narcan, is a medication used to prevent overdoses by blocking the effects of opioids.

Offer condoms and tampons, with signage in the bathrooms to let people know where or from whom to get them.

Down here

• Everybody is welcome down these steps, of every gender and none, and whoever is helping them.
• Nobody gets between anybody and the door they choose. That is stallbatting, and it does not happen here.
• Nobody asks why you are here, how long you will be, or who you have come with.
• Nothing down here is counted: not who comes, not how often, not how long anybody stays.
• Nothing moves by itself: the light lies where the sun puts it.