This is part two of a two-part series
Part One is "The black gentlewoman in the marble dungeon."
Part One is "The black gentlewoman in the marble dungeon."
An "untouchable," cleaning India's communal toilets. |
A restroom attendant scrubbing a urinal. The pink gloves are a nice touch. |
What hasn't changed since the more formal and luxurious past is the fundamental status of the attendants: They are essentially beggars -- in general relying entirely on the kindness of strangers for their pay, in the form of tips -- and they clean up people's grossest messes, like those in India's "untouchable" caste. The caste system in India was supposed to have been abolished decades ago, but it's alive and well -- and we have our own version.
Our own version doesn't get to enjoy some fettuccine and Asti, or respond to Earth, Wind and Fire's musical entreaty, "Let's Groove Tonight."
They don't get to groove. That's sad. |
"In a lot of these places, there are drunk girls throwing up everywhere," a concessionaire says. "Somebody's got to be there with a mop."
But when people walk into a restroom and see an attendant, they generally experience either dismay or resentment, some of it truly hateful. I understand that, as I will discuss later. But my sympathies lie with the attendants.
Oh no -- what a bloody bore! |
THE VENUE: HEAT, LIGHT, FREEDOM, ECSTASY
When these amped-up kids need to pee, they don't want to deal with some pitiable "nobody" who needs a "handout." |
Imagine the plight of the restroom attendant, who aspires to be a sort of welcoming hostess, but instead is a janitor and police officer in this highly-charged, inhibition-optional environment. People come into his or her little enclave, which was intended to provide an interlude of peace, primping and comfort, and use it for everything but. They are hyped up, man! And they don't want anyone being a buzz-kill when it's booze-and-boogie time.
But if there were no attendant, this place would be trashed in no time:
The way in which public restrooms are used has evolved, as night life has come to embody more than a smoke, a drink and a nice little dinner. They have become the dark corner that provides cover for illicit, unseemly or gross behavior. Like the worst nursing homes, they tend to overflow with poop and vomit. Enter the restroom attendant, and thank goodness he or she is there.
USING 'THE HEAD' WITH A FEW BRAIN CELLS MISSING
In today's advanced culture, many night-lifers employ la salle de bain for sloppy and slithery liaisons:
Or they puke instead, which feels even better:
They might do a little blow, despite the written request not to:
Or they just screw around like 13-year-olds, further degrading the atmosphere:
Then they primp, using the attendant's thoughtfully arranged trays of cosmetics and colognes ("ooh, sparkly gloss!"):
And they leave a huge mess behind, including pee on the toilet seats ( Women need to do squats, at home, as a great butt-building exercise -- NOT over a toilet, where they splash everywhere. And they think they're superior to the girl who is stuck in there all night, cleaning up after them):
Just
ask your friendly neighborhood restroom attendant what she goes
through, and maybe she'll feel comfortable talking about it. Or read
this:
LIGHTS, CELLPHONE CAMERAS, ACTION!
Dance
clubs didn't look like the one below when I was a dance clubber. Did we just
need less spectacle back then? The pounding music was plenty. No sparkles,
frantically moving neon shafts of lights, no explosions of fireworks or confetti. Maybe
video games created a thirst for greater stimulation? Maybe Ecstasy did
it? Or maybe a sort of arms race developed between venues as technology made ever-more-dazzling effects possible.
"May I have your attention please? I need to borrow five bucks to tip that poor girl who is imprisoned in the bathroom." |
MEAN GIRLS!
If I were an attendant, I wouldn't really want these ladies to use my bathroom -- they look like the mean girls from high school:
"No, you can't sit with us at lunch! You're ugly, and so are your clothes!" |
Or her either -- she'd get the toilet seat wet:
A "voyeur girl" at the Tao nightclub in Las Vegas. |
Probably not them, either. They'd use up all the bronze-shimmer body lotion, and steal some fruit-flavored e-cigarettes:
"Ha, ha -- we have the most shimmery boobs!" |
It takes all the attendant's wits and energy to keep the facilities from becoming a disaster area or a crime scene:
To quote the 1978 disco tune by Alicia Bridges, "I Love the Nightlife:"
Please don't talk about love tonight.
Please don't talk about sweet love.
Please don't talk about being true
and all the trouble we've been through.
I want to go where the people dance.
I want some action ... I want to live!
Action ... I got so much to give.
I want to give it. I want to get some too.
Oh, I ... Ohhh I ... I love the nightlife,
I got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea.
Oh, I love the night life,
I got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea
Please don't talk about sweet love.
Please don't talk about being true
and all the trouble we've been through.
I want to go where the people dance.
I want some action ... I want to live!
Action ... I got so much to give.
I want to give it. I want to get some too.
Oh, I ... Ohhh I ... I love the nightlife,
I got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea.
Oh, I love the night life,
I got to boogie on the disco 'round, oh yea
They want to give it. They want to get some, too. Oh yea. Boogie! |
TIPPING: TREPIDATION AND TREACHERY
The whole dynamic of tipping -- in the powder room or anywhere else --
is cruel and fraught with anxiety. It should end. Attendants should get a
salary -- a solid living wage. So should everyone else who currently
relies upon tips.
The life of the restroom attendant is stressful and demeaning in several ways, but it is the issue of tipping that seems to create the greatest consternation. Most attendants rely entirely upon tips, and some have to share their "take" with the establishment or a concessionaire. It's an outrage.
Most people are infuriated that they are expected to "pay to piss," no matter how hard the attendant has worked to make their little pit stop worth paying for. People hate being put in this position, which is understandable. I hate it too. But imagine being in the attendant's position. She's just coping with the hand she was dealt, like the rest of us.
Jay Porter, writing in Slate magazine's August 14, 2013, issue, remarks, "I got rid of gratuities at my (San Diego) restaurant, and our service only got better. I can hear your objection now: How could servers be motivated to do a good job without tips? This is a common question, but it is also a silly question. Servers are motivated to do a good job in the same ways that everyone else is. Servers want to keep their jobs; servers want to get a raise; servers want to be successful and see themselves as professionals and take pride in their work. In any workplace, everyone is required to perform well, and tips have nothing to do with it. The next time you see your doctor, ask her if she wouldn’t do better-quality work if she made minimum wage, with the rest of her income from her patients’ tips."
Ditto for restroom attendants.
The life of the restroom attendant is stressful and demeaning in several ways, but it is the issue of tipping that seems to create the greatest consternation. Most attendants rely entirely upon tips, and some have to share their "take" with the establishment or a concessionaire. It's an outrage.
Most people are infuriated that they are expected to "pay to piss," no matter how hard the attendant has worked to make their little pit stop worth paying for. People hate being put in this position, which is understandable. I hate it too. But imagine being in the attendant's position. She's just coping with the hand she was dealt, like the rest of us.
Jay Porter, writing in Slate magazine's August 14, 2013, issue, remarks, "I got rid of gratuities at my (San Diego) restaurant, and our service only got better. I can hear your objection now: How could servers be motivated to do a good job without tips? This is a common question, but it is also a silly question. Servers are motivated to do a good job in the same ways that everyone else is. Servers want to keep their jobs; servers want to get a raise; servers want to be successful and see themselves as professionals and take pride in their work. In any workplace, everyone is required to perform well, and tips have nothing to do with it. The next time you see your doctor, ask her if she wouldn’t do better-quality work if she made minimum wage, with the rest of her income from her patients’ tips."
Ditto for restroom attendants.
Porter continues, with great persuasiveness: "Creating a non-tipping culture in restaurants is possible. And, as Slate’s Brian Palmer has shown, there’s plenty of research to back up my observations. Studies have shown that tipping is not an effective incentive for performance in servers. It also creates an environment in which people of color, young people, old people, women, and foreigners tend to get worse service than white males. In a tip-based system, nonwhite servers make less than their white peers for equal work."
The same dynamic applies to restroom attendants. People such as Anna
shouldn't have to place themselves at our mercy for their livelihoods.
The establishments that benefit by their hard work should pay them.TODAY'S RESTROOMS: THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE CREEPY
Like the clubs and restaurants that house them, the restrooms are often striking, quirky, and luxurious. One might expect that these surroundings would elicit respectful behavior among patrons, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Maybe some psychologists should study what environmental cues are most effective at encouraging decorum in the powder room. Aren't these nice?:
Increasingly, food and entertainment establishments are relying on concessionaires, who supply the attendants for about $50 a night. These middlemen not only keep the fee, but also pocket part of "their ladies'" tips.
Why don't the establishments just give the money to the attendant? Many of them are lucky to earn $50 in tips during an exhausting and nerve-wracking shift. But it's easier for the establishments to have someone else take over the hassle of interviewing and training prospects. That's lazy and cruel!
These entrepreneurial ventures aspire to bring an aura of class and professionalism to the job, and it's easy to understand why some enterprising person would devise this business plan. I just don't approve. The attendants make way too little as it is. It would be unnecessary to have a middleman if the venues would do their own due diligence.
Club Pamper attendants pride themselves on service and congeniality. |
Club Pamper, whose attendants are pictured above, "has been serving the elite and upscale club goers since
1989," according to its web site. "We started at 'Little J's downtown Los Angeles. We now service 13
of the hottest night clubs and restaurants in Los Angeles and surrounding areas.Our attendants are well trained to perform a
courteous and friendly service to your clientele. We offer quality
restroom attendant service to enhance the satisfaction of your patrons
at Nightclubs/Restaurants/Lounges/Private Parties/Hotels."
Here are two other firms, which have slick logos and status appeal:
.
Here are two other firms, which have slick logos and status appeal:
.
TLC's ad features a poised, attractive model in classy surroundings. |
The ad below, on the other hand, has a bit of an "ick" factor to it, in
my opinion, anyway. It looks a bit like a pimp-whore
relationship. He's the procurer, who acquired the "john" for her -- literally the john, as in restroom -- and
she's sultrily slipping his "take" from her many hours of difficult
labor, into his pocket. Adorable! He refers to himself as "The Bathroom
Guy" on his Facebook page. He's probably very nice. But who is his ad supposed to appeal to? Not to a woman, I wouldn't think, unless she really does want to be prostitute, in which case she could get a real "john," instead of the marble-and-porcelain variety, and make a nice income to boot. If he's trying to attract classy venues as clients, I think he might need a different ad agency.
A CULTURE OF MESS AND EXCESS CRIES OUT FOR CLEANER-UPPERS
It's
obvious why there has been a resurgence in the use of restroom
attendants: The economy (people desperate for any kind of work) and popular culture, which has loosened the bonds of etiquette, including bathroom
etiquette.
"Like an endangered species that suddenly appears in every backyard,
restroom attendants are showing up in restaurants where you least expect
to find them, and in greater numbers than you might imagine," the New York Times reported back in 2002. The explosion in new hires has grown exponentially in the decade since. Some people disapprove:
"Today, the bathroom attendant is a relic of the past, needlessly
helpful at best and completely unnecessary at worst," says Hollywood
writer Jason Kessler in Bon Appetit magazine. "They're as superfluous as
steamboat captains and telegraph operators."
"It represents one
more daily chore that for some people has been transformed into an
emotionally fraught experience: a visit to the restroom," another frequent patron complains.
New York Times writer Frank Bruni refers to the efforts of attendants as the "infantilization" of customers.
Their sentiments may be accurate with respect to some establishments, but certainly not to most of them.
"Once, restroom attendants were found only in the oldest of old-line
places, like the '21' Club or the Oyster Bar in Grand Central
Terminal," the Times adds, recalling an era "when restroom attendants stood at the ready with a needle and
thread and were skilled at solving hair and stocking issues...., Dressed in a white coat (for the men's) or in a dark suit (for
the ladies'). Anxiety was not an
issue; habitués were well-practiced in dealing with household help."
What was once a nicety -- and yet another opportunity for rich people to be pampered, usually by delightfully subservient black people -- has become a necessity, according to many restaurant and club owners.
"We could not get by without them," said Richard Wolf, the Tao Group's restaurant and entertainment magnate, who is often referred to as the "king of clubs." His Tao restaurant in New York serves 1,000 dinners each night.
His Marquee dayclub/nightclub in Las Vegas has a striking lobby:
Restroom attendants
today aren't formal, reassuring sources of serene aid and comfort. They can't afford to be: They are required to work their asses off, keeping things clean and keeping
people moving.
"At Dos Caminos (Las Vegas), an attendant in surgical gloves wields a constant washcloth in a seemingly losing battle to achieve the next best thing to godliness. But today, younger people may well be inexperienced and uncomfortable with such attention," according to the Times article.
What was once a nicety -- and yet another opportunity for rich people to be pampered, usually by delightfully subservient black people -- has become a necessity, according to many restaurant and club owners.
"We could not get by without them," said Richard Wolf, the Tao Group's restaurant and entertainment magnate, who is often referred to as the "king of clubs." His Tao restaurant in New York serves 1,000 dinners each night.
His Marquee dayclub/nightclub in Las Vegas has a striking lobby:
But the dance floor is a reminder that bathroom maintenance and traffic
control are a significant issue (a female patron can easily wait in a long
line of rowdy, sullen, tipsy girls for 30 minutes to get in):
So many bladders. So few toilet stalls. |
"At Dos Caminos (Las Vegas), an attendant in surgical gloves wields a constant washcloth in a seemingly losing battle to achieve the next best thing to godliness. But today, younger people may well be inexperienced and uncomfortable with such attention," according to the Times article.
They're certainly inexperienced and uncomfortable, but their bathroom
shenanigans have has left club owners little choice but to use the
attendants.
Even so, it seems that the clientele still hasn't become accustomed to "doing their thing" -- whatever that might be -- in a supervised lavatory, staffed by someone who needs them (to survive), whether the patron need the attendant or not.
''For the combination of pity, compassion and guilt to have to go into the simple act of using a bathroom is just horrible,'' said Judith Newman, a writer quoted in the Chicago Sun-Times. ''Why do I have to go through an emotional roller coaster every time I open the door?''
Even so, it seems that the clientele still hasn't become accustomed to "doing their thing" -- whatever that might be -- in a supervised lavatory, staffed by someone who needs them (to survive), whether the patron need the attendant or not.
''For the combination of pity, compassion and guilt to have to go into the simple act of using a bathroom is just horrible,'' said Judith Newman, a writer quoted in the Chicago Sun-Times. ''Why do I have to go through an emotional roller coaster every time I open the door?''
The takeaway from this post is my deep admiration for the people who show up and do this job night after night, despite the abuse they experience -- some of it truly grotesque.
The aspect of this whole story -- this whole phenomenon -- that affects me the most is that these young people, who are desperate for work, who must have preferred to do practically anything else, who are are often ignored and insulted -- and rarely if ever thanked for their efforts ... these people, with their beautiful resiliency and determination to support themselves, express pride in their work, and humility, and hope for the future. Most of them struggle quite heroically to make the best of their jobs, and they express gratitude that they have a job. They focus on the people who are kind to them, who ask about their lives, and who put a dollar in the tip jar. Each brings his or her own strengths to this effort.
We need to have some compassion about this. Put yourself in their place! They could be whoring, selling drugs, purse-snatching, or on welfare. They are trying to earn an honest living. You might characterize it as "make work," but it is work, with a long tradition behind it.
"This is not an easy job so I won't sugar coat it," one attendant writes. "I deal with mean women, cheap women who want to use up all my stuff without tipping, drunk angry women and funky women. I deal with drunken men who think it's o.k. to harass a woman because he is attracted to her. I deal with people who look down on me because of my job. I'm not some servant or beggar. I'm on my feet doing customer service. At the end of the night I smell like smoke, my feet hurt, my head hurts, I've heard the same songs about a million times but I'm satisfied. I did the best I could."
That's what I call a good attitude.
Another equally thoughtful attendant writes: "There are women who go out alone to relax but have no one to talk to or need to talk to someone about man problems. I'm there to keep the party going, and when women feel uncomfortable at the club they use the restroom I work in, and they leave looking refreshed. A little rapport goes a long way. When people talk to me they see me as a person. I'm just like you. I work for my money."
On message boards, based both in the U.S. and the U.K., they share their feelings of gratification at doing good, honest, competent work, even if no one else sees it that way.
Despite these sentiments, many attendants admit that they lie to others about what they do for a living. They feel ashamed and embarrassed. Several expressed the fear that people they know might come in and see them doing this "lowest of the low" work. The women almost universally refuse to have their pictures taken (in fact I couldn't find any actual attendants through exhaustive Google searches, just a couple of stock photos that used models). The male attendants are somewhat less self-conscious. But I admire them all for taking the card they were handed and trying to make the best of it. I couldn't do it.
SO TIRED, TIRED OF WAITING, TIRED OF WAITING ON YOU
Millions of Americans work in the service sector and are (or feel they are) in a subservient role. They are required to cater to the needs -- reasonable or unreasonable -- of customers, clients, patients or guests.
Millions of Americans work in the service sector and are (or feel they are) in a subservient role. They are required to cater to the needs -- reasonable or unreasonable -- of customers, clients, patients or guests.
Have a nice day! |
Restroom attendants must envy that invisibility: They are required to preside over, service and monitor their domains, and it's hard to ignore their presence. They are constantly treated with disdain.
I began my research for this article with a personal experience as my foundation. Based on that experience I wrote about my discomfort at unexpectedly finding myself face-to-face with an older black attendant in a 1970s New York powder room (http://kronstantinople.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-black-gentlewoman-in-marble-dungeon.html). I didn't know such a job existed. I felt embarrassed. I was ashamed to have someone waiting on me, particularly an African-American lady wearing an old-time domestic's uniform.
I was also upset that I was expected to pay for assistance that I neither wanted nor needed, although of course I remained mindful that it wasn't her fault she was in this position of subservience.
Customers can't seem to let off enough putrid steam about this subject. If you scroll through the online message boards, and they are surprisingly numerous, you confront fuming, vulgar exasperation and ridicule among those who patronize restrooms that have attendants. Just as I did during my first encounter, they resent the implicit anticipation of payment for help doing things they've been doing, unaided, since they were about five years old. It's already costing a fortune to spend a night out on the town. All you need is someone else asking your for money. Sommeliers, valet parking dudes, maitre d's, coat-check personnel...and now the bathroom! I can relate to people's exasperation.
There are patrons who appreciate the service. One message board participant wrote: "The attendants are very popular here in South Florida at all the nightclubs and also the strip clubs. Without them there'd be a lot of shit going on -- dudes snorting coke off the urinals, bringing in the ladies (or even another dude, god forbid). Guys constantly jerking off in there. The attendants keep it under control. They come with literally a SUITCASE filled with stuff and set up shop on the sink countertop. 20 different types of colognes, mints, gum, listerine, Visine for the red eyes....you name it, they have it. I like it. I feel like royalty. When I am done with my business, I simply walk up to the sink, the guy turns on the water for me, pumps some soap into my hands and I wash away. Once I am done, he throws a towel in my hands, I dry myself, tip him a buck or two and take whatever I need."
AN AWESOME, ANACHRONISTIC EXCEPTION
This profile is taken in its entirety from the New York Times: Lorenzo Robinson, who has been standing sentry in the "21" Club's men's room for 15 years, says he could not imagine a better occupation. "To me, it's such a privilege to come to work," said Mr. Robinson, 62, who is better known as the Rev, and whose father, uncle and nephew stood in the same bathroom. "The next stop is heaven."
Lorenzo Robinson, left, is a gracious man with a heartwarming attitude. |
As the banter continues, Mr. Robinson turns on the water, checks its temperature with a pinkie, dispenses a squidge of soap into open palm and pats a lint brush across the patron's shoulders in a series of motions so quick and discreet they are barely noticed. Even before the man can wet his hands, Mr. Robinson is ready with towel; cloth, not paper.
An ordained Baptist minister who holds two divinity school degrees, Mr. Robinson wears a crisp white jacket, a monogrammed "21" Club stitched at the breast. He is an eager storyteller who accompanies his pampering with tales of world travel and wash-basin encounters with greatness.
Mr. Robinson took the job after his uncle, Otis Cole, died in 1989 as he prepared to leave home for work. Mr. Cole was 80 and had first come to the washroom during the late 1940's. When Mr. Robinson called to report the death, the manager asked whether he might fill in for a few days. Mr. Robinson came and never left. "I consider it an honor to be here," he said. "It's outstanding, incredible, indescribable."
Another attendant who works in an atmosphere of decorum. |
How many of us would be able and willing to take on all the duties outlined below, even for a decent salary?
(and not necessarily a very decent ambiance) |
Job Summary/Essential Functions of the Restroom Attendant:
Under general supervision, the Restroom Attendant is responsible for the proper cleaning and maintenance of restroom facilities in accordance with the establishment's policies and procedures.
Due to the nature of the establishment's business, the Restroom Attendant may be required to work for longer than normal work periods. The work schedule will vary from 0 to 50 hours per week. The Restroom Attendant must be willing and able to work flexible hours, five-six days a week to as late as 2:00 a.m. including holidays. The Restroom Attendant agrees to work as scheduled by the Company.
The Restroom Attendant must be willing to conform to the establishment's grooming and personal hygiene requirements and wear the proper issued uniform. A neat, clean, professional appearance is required at all times.
Unique Job Requirements:
|
Required Relationships
|
Required Qualifications
|
|
Physical Requirements
The physical demands described here are representative of those that must be met by an employee to successfully perform the essential functions of this job. Upon request, reasonable accommodations may be made to enable individuals with disabilities to perform the essential functions of the job.
- Able to regularly use hands to finger, hands, and feel.
- Must have full use of hands, arms and legs to operate cleaning equipment
- Able to move equipment which would include pushing, pulling, bending, and lifting.
- Able to stand and/or walk for up to (10) hours.
- Must have good hearing and visual acuity to observe guest behavior, etc.
- Able to communicate effectively with other employees and guests.
Ricardo, an attendant in Las Vegas, told The Bachelor Guy blogger: "Just last week I had this guy drag some tweaked-up girl in here wanting to take her into a stall. This ain’t too uncommon, but it’s a big no-no from management. The guy was at least smart enough to drop a couple bucks in my basket, so I felt inclined to look the other way.
"I just assumed they were partaking in the indulgence of banned
substances – and who’s to say they weren’t – but from what it sounded
like, it led to a little game of hide-the-salami if you get what I am
saying. To be honest I don’t mind it. Makes the night go by quicker. But
you have to remember this is a bathroom in a nightclub. Most guys come
in here after 12 martinis and have aim about as good as Dick Cheney’s.
The floor ain’t ideal to do the nasty dance, especially for two
uncoordinated dopers. So, between a few snorts and grunts I hear a
SMACK! The nice little church girl lost her footing and did a face plant
into the old john. Out cold."
A SALTY OLD HAND WITH A SPICY PAST
A SALTY OLD HAND WITH A SPICY PAST
"Door George" |
From a May 2013 article in the Cleveland Scene: Door George wipes down the black granite surface between the four
bone-white sink bowls, hobbling perpetually fore and aft on medical
boots and toeless feet, his reflection rising above his products like a
hobbyist architect's. He's the lone sentinel and shark of Cleveland's Hustler strip
club washroom and damned if he isn't pouring himself a cold one.
Door George is a taller guy in his sixties, "once-striking" more than
"once-handsome." As he talks with his customers, he's got the big
friendly face and graying hair of Eastern European uncles. But the most
notable thing about his appearance are his injuries. His hands are
gnarled by arthritis, his legs bloated by veins that won't circulate.
He was the doorman at The Circus—Caesar's Circus, before the layoffs. Door George was the gatekeeper. He was the man who made the rules and
held the cards. He wore a tuxedo to work. His business card was printed
on parchment.
AN HONORED GUEST BECOMES THE HIRED HELP
Harry de Wildt |
"Celebrity"
restroom attendant Harry de Wildt has been dining at Le Central
for 33 years. So dedicated in his efforts, the late, great Herb Caen
dubbed him Sir Lunch-a-Lot for their many hours logged at Banquette No. 1.
There’s even a Harry de Wildt salad on the menu: celery root remoulade, cucumber and red beets.
MY UNSOLICITED ADVICE
MY UNSOLICITED ADVICE
After we've peed and primped, and we're headed back out to our wonderful evening, why don't we make a pleasant remark to the attendant, and leave her a tip? We won't miss the money. She needs it. All of us in this economy rely on everyone else for our jobs and income. We're all in this together. And even if you don't care about her feelings, wouldn't you feel better about yourself if you acknowledged her efforts and showed some generosity?
***************************
On Labor Day, the post, "Thank You for Your Service," which expresses gratitude and respect to the real workers in our economy -- the powder-room girls, and all the others - will be reprinted. It's more relevant now than it was two years ago. Justice in this country requires a massive redistribution of the wealth.