Quiznos at 5231 Broadway (Inside Broadway Commons)

Find me a man who doesn't like sandwiches, and I'll tell you you've found a man who hates puppies.  

Sandwiches are the perfect food: fast, healthy, and transportable.  And, like a drunk schizophrenic waiving a shotgun, they are completely unpredictable and complex.  While a sandwich's limitation lies only within the imagination of the person making it, simple two- and three-ingredient combinations still excite us most.  (I implore you: try a grilled cheese on toasted spelt bread and tell me it didn't rock your world.)   

They're also a great idea for restaurants, as they can be made quickly and sold at a pretty penny to people in a hurry looking to inhale all their food groups alongside a bag of chips and a cookie.  The markup on most sandwiches is borderline criminal, but hey: it's cheaper and healthier than pizza or Chinese takeout, and nothing beats the smell of freshly-baked bread.  

So, has this Quiznos put some of that markup toward the upkeep of their Men’s Room?

Men's Room, or Schneider's office?

For starters, they've made a beautiful Men's Room entrance, though it was unmarked.  Only through the power of deduction was I able to calculate the risk of going through a door that could very well have been a Janitor's closet.  And we all know what's hiding in the Janitor's closet: dirty mop buckets and broken dreams.  (Or is it "broken mop buckets and dirty dreams?"  I get confused...)

They really let it all hang out here...

Meh, not bad, I guess.  It was clean, and white.  Stark white.  Though, I could have done without the open trash can and hobo toothbrush out there for all the world to see.  And don’t worry: the bar behind the toilet had a cousin catty corner to it to help people get up from the seat.  Although, unless the one you see here is the backup bar, I can’t imagine why on Earth they’d need this thing here.  You’d need to be a double-jointed gymnast to use it.

Hey.  How's it hangin'?

It looks a little skewed, yes, but the TP was at an angle in the roll, and I felt this piece would be more organic if I left it untouched.  (It did, however, drive me crazy the whole time I was in there.)  What you're seeing is excess paper from the top roll, HIDING THE ROLL BENEATH IT.  Double-ply and double-stacked, this simple-looking TP dispenser was ready for battle.

"A quarter of an inch is like a thousand degrees..." - Jerry Seinfeld

Very German: clean and efficient.  It got hot quickly, and there was plenty of liquid soap in the small wall container.

Georgia Pa... Georgia Pa... ah, Hell with it.

Loaded, just the way I like them.  Outside of the label peeling off, no real complaints here; the hand crank was easy to operate with my elbow, and each push yielded good amounts of paper.  Granted, it takes about twenty feet of these paper towels to dry your hands, but quit complaining: that’s why God gave you pants.

Four pucks out of five.  The Men's Room was clean and well-stocked, the lone major setback being that the door wasn't even marked.  That, and unless you are Shameless McGee, you should probably buy something while there; toilets are for paying customers.

Valero on 8200 Broadway

How do I describe this Men's Room at the Valero on the 8200 block of Broadway?  Hmm...

You ever been to prison?  Me neither, but I imagine a pit stop in Huntsville isn't much different than a pit stop at this Valero.

Look: I love Valero.  They fuel me with their Cibilo Mountain Coffee and two packs of peanuts for $2.19, and they fuel my car with some of the lowest gas prices in the city (remember when $5 used to get you nearly a quarter of a tank?).  And not once have I been to one - even in the seediest parts of town - and not gotten at least fair service.  Even the guy funding his college from behind the bullet-proof glass who has to wench that steel door out to take my money has a smile on his face.

That said, the Men's Room at this Valero was terrifying.  Clean, but terrifying.

The Portal

Here's the door.  Looks unassuming enough, doesn't it?  Unisex sign (please: only men go into these), no graffiti... but then you notice that it's between the $40,000 cooler and a cinderblock wall / fallout shelter.  "It's a bathroom," you figure.  "How bad could it be?"

The Chute

Annnnnd here it is.  All the conveniences of the modern Men's Room tucked into the same space allotted for Bud Lights, wine coolers, and - for some reason - cases upon cases of Yellowtail Chardonnay.

Oh: and this picture is almost - ALMOST - to scale.

Hey!  Howyadoin', Hand Station?

It looks like a drunk took this picture, but the wall wasn't far enough back from the towel dispenser to take a picture without my reflection being exposed to the world (okay, the three people who read this site), and anonymity is key.  But hey: there was plenty of paper towels, the hand-dryer worked, and the trash can right below was not overflowing; what more could I expect?

Hey!  Howyadoin', Sink?

Don't let this break your hip when you first walk in because it's RIGHT there.  It's literally door.  Sink.  Aesthetic-wise, however, it was clean and the water got hot, so it served its purpose.  Yes, the caulk was cracked, but it wasn't leaking.  Plus, a tight bathroom in SAN ANTONIO?  What were they thinking?  Of COURSE some drunk taco eater is gonna waddle through there after a bender; I'm surprised this sink was on the wall at all.

Hey!  Howyadoin', TP Holder?

Inexplicably and inexcusably, they were down to crunch time on their toilet paper.  Another pet peeve: it's single-ply, so it's only half as much as it appears to be.  Who do they think they're fooling?  And it's allergy season - to blow your nose into single-ply means you've got to pull at least a yard of tissue from the container so you can fold it over five or six times.  We're in San Antonio: home of Tex-Mex and Allergies; people simply need to keep more toilet paper on hand!

Hey!  Howyadoin, Exit Door?

This is your view from the commode.  Scenic, isn't it?  I've seen racquetball courts with more contrast!  Some paint for the door, a poster for cigarettes... something - ANYTHING - to make this place more welcoming. The maintenance schedule on the door was pointless; what kind of maintenance are they doing without checking toilet paper?   They just open the door, peek in, and go, "Welp!  No dead people!  Three-o'clock check: done."

So there it is: the Men's Room at Valero on the 8200 block of Broadway.  It's diminutive, white, and... uh... had working plumbing, but not at all a place you want to go do your business.

Two pucks out of five: it's clean, but being in there is like being buried alive.  Number ones only, please.