Almost all the public toilets in cafes, restaurants, pubs or services are really unpleasant. How hard can it be to keep them clean?
How hard can it be to keep a toilet clean? I can’t remember the last time I used one in a cafe, restaurant, pub or service station that wasn’t, well, minging is the word that comes to mind. They’re not all minging, to be fair, but they are somewhere between minging and merely unpleasant. They’re never clean, and invariably smell a bit. Or a lot. And there is always, but always, something broken. A urinal out of action; a lock hanging off; a hand dryer that doesn’t work; a paper-towel dispenser dispensing no towels; a paper-towel dispenser dispensing paper towels all over the floor; an empty toilet-tissue dispenser; a toilet-tissue dispenser from which it is next to impossible to extract toilet tissues; a loose toilet seat; a missing toilet seat; a soap dispenser with no soap to dispense … the list goes on. When, I ask you, is the last time you sat there and thought: “Ooh, this is rather pleasant in here; this is actually quite nice”?
I’m not talking about public conveniences here, but toilets for clients. Clients who presumably you would want treated well so they come back another time. I can’t understand why places, especially those serving food, don’t take this more seriously. If standards of toilet hygiene are poor – which they always are – then why wouldn’t we conclude that things might not be quite right in the kitchen? I’m not asking for potpourri, bottles of cologne or a selection of improving reading matter. I just want an environment that isn’t actively unpleasant. The coffee shop in which I’m writing this is part of a major chain. It’s a perfectly pleasant environment in which to read, write or chat. Sadly though, I’m sitting near the door to the toilet. Somebody approaches it every few minutes. Elsewhere, that walk of shame is particular to those intent on using the wretched facilities without buying anything. Not here: no buy, no bog. If you want a key, get a coffee. Yet, even with this restricted access, the air within is fetid. Every time a lucky keyholder opens the door, I get a waft of it. I fancy the dog asleep at my feet wrinkles his nose in disdain. Perhaps the issue of non-patron toilet usage presents an opportunity. Something along the lines of: non-patrons are welcome to use our toilets as long as they’re prepared to give them a clean. Please ask at the counter for gloves, cloths, brushes, hazmat suit and disinfectant. And pick up your free coffee on the way out.
Adrian Chiles is a broadcaster, writer and Guardian columnist
