Ultimately, the toilet in Madison Square Park is a curious little piece of engineering. When you walk in, it is soaking wet from the self-clean function. There's this total desire to stay in during the cleaning to see what happens, but the prospect of a jet stream of feces-mingled water kills it for me. Why there are three "emergency phone" buttons is a curiosity. As is the difference between an "emergency" and an "assistance" call.
I'll revisit when the mood strikes me to check on progress. It seems that a quarter is a bit cheap, all said and done. But this story was never about a Manhattan's first in a series of new pay toilets. It was about how we live now. We can report from everywhere now, on the most insignificant of things. And we keep our focus on the lowest of things. The toilet.
More interior shots post-jump.
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