Charmin: Enjoy the Go!

A couple of years ago, during a day wandering through Times Square, I found I had to “go”, and bad … and suddenly I was drawn to a new “storefront”, right next to the Virgin Records Store – which appeared to be a giant public bathroom, hosted by Charmin – and the whole experience was truly insane – I recounted it here. Of all of the things I have written, that piece was one of the most linked-to.

Public bathrooms in New York City are VERY important (in fact I wrote a whole post about it), and if you live here long enough, you figure out a way to navigate, clicking through your mind, “Okay, if I have to go, there’s a Starbucks on 15th and 9th …” and this monstrosity in Times Square, while completely annoying, with people dressed up as the Charmin bears, dancing around singing about how awesome it is to poop, serves a very important need – especially to the tourists, who are the main people in Times Square, especially at Christmastime. The Charmin bathroom facility – two floors in total – is an awesome addition to the urban landscape, as surreal as it is. That way, you can do your window-shopping, knowing you won’t be trapped anywhere, and have to try to sneak into a local restaurant and use the facilities, or what have you. Granted, it is quite strange to have a bathroom be a sort of ROMPER ROOM environment, and I certainly don’t need encouragement to do my business. I do it, and move on with my day. Visiting the Charmin Bathroom made me feel like I was suddenly in an X-rated anime video – one of those nasty-minded videos from Japan – where it’s all about poop and asses, yet dressed up with pigtails and baby-talk. So strange. The strangest place I have ever been.

Now. The saga continues.

It appears that Charmin only opens that place at Christmastime, to handle the bigger crowds that flood to New York to do their shopping, etc. And yet, throughout the entire year, the place remains EMPTY. I have been so curious about their rental agreement. This is prime real estate. To hold onto it, and keep it empty, all year round – seems insane. AND, it’s not like you have to pay to get in to the bathrooms. You can pee for free. This ain’t Urinetown. Yes, it is one gigantic advertisement for Charmin, it is relentless – you actually feel like you have entered the compound of a CULT – there is no daylight, no clocks, and the Charmin advertising blares at you from every corner. Sensory overload. But still: what else do they get out of it? Do they pay rent the whole year?

I ask this, because, in yet another day of wandering through Times Square (not during Christmas), I was drawn to the building – which blared in a billboard: RETAIL OPPORTUNITIES – but when I peeked through the papered-over front doors, I got a glimpse of the Charmin bears dancing on the wall. So the structure inside was still intact. It’s not like it was a big empty space. Charmin was still present.

I have never stopped wondering about that place, and every time I stroll by, I have to peek through the doors. Yup. Charmin bears still dancing on the walls. Weird.

Then, in November, I saw this casting call in New York (uh-oh, there’s that “actor wannabe” again! I know, it’s so upsetting, isn’t it, when other people, total strangers, have goals and interests that you don’t respect! Makes the world such a scary place!) and was SO tempted to audition just to see what it was like. Also, I learned that those cavorting people all throughout the Charmin bathroom, dancing with pom poms, and also cleaning up each stall after each person exits (seriously, this place was immaculate) were paid $10,000 for a month of work.

Anyway, I saw the casting call, and so put it in my head: Sheila, you must go back and visit that place when it re-opens, and you must go with your REAL camera. The first time I went, I was unprepared, and only had my cell phone camera … but I have always wanted to go back there and document it correctly. (I also wanted to go back there dressed in a burqa, but that’s another story entirely.)

Yesterday was the big day. I was going to a matinee of New Moon, and I actually did have business yet again at Actors Equity (oh no! Those pesky actors, doing their thing, even though I disapprove of them!), so I thought, Let’s go hang out at Charmin for a bit.

It’s nice having so much free time. Actually, it’s not nice, but I am glad I re-visited Charmin.

It did not disappoint.

I’ll walk you through it!

I approached. Immediately I saw the people milled about outside in costume, just like before, cajoling and pleading for people to come in. Now that I know these people are paid $10,000 for a month’s work, I don’t pity them. These aren’t people dressed up as hot dogs, placed on a hostile street corner, and being paid minimum wage. They will be rolling in cash after their time in Purgatory.

I asked this girl if I could take her picture. She consented with a passivity I found alarming.

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I went inside. I was cheered for my decision. I didn’t even have to “go”, I just wanted to see the joint again. I felt a little bit bad about that, that I was operating under false pretenses. Were there cameras in the little stalls to make sure I really did “go”?

A gleaming escalator took you up to the second floor where all the bathrooms were. On the wall beside the escalator was a note of encouragement and support from Charmin:

Thank you, that’s very kind, I will! I usually do!

There are video screens everywhere, showing peppy people dancing around in a big white space (with two Charmin bears as well), singing a song and doing peppy Disney-ish dances. The song goes something like this, and it is on eternal repeat:

“Charrrrrrmin!
Enjoy the go!
Charrrrrrmin!
We want to know!
Do you like number one?
Do you like number two?
Charrrrrrrrrmin!
Enjoy the go!”

I am not kidding. The videos never stop. The music is blared out into the air from well-placed speakers everywhere. Like I said, it feels like a cult. I am reminded of Jim Jones blasting his voice through the jungle compound in Guyana, exhorting his followers to stay vigilant, to be aware, that they are fully surrounded by hostile forces. If you hear that crap 24/7, you will start to believe it. You cannot escape the sensory overload. As I got on the escalator, I actually did ponder – “do I like number one? Do I like number two? What is my stance on this all-important issue? Aren’t they both EQUALLY awesome?” They were getting to me already.

I actually felt excited.

At the top, you are greeted by a couple of peppy Charmin employees (“$10,000 a month, $10,000 a month” kept going through my head) who welcome you, who applaud your decision to answer nature’s call, and who say, “Go down this corridor and join the line”. I obeyed. The music was insistent. It makes you want to scream. There is a Blues Clues mania to the sound, a mentally ill sing-song, small children dancing with giant bears about how much they love to “go”. It is a strange world. Like most people, I go to the bathroom. You know, I’m grateful for my ability in this area, and I’m happy that when I need to go, I can just, you know, go. There are others who are not so lucky. I truly am grateful, I’m not being sarcastic. Even one or two days of being constipated can make you realize: “wow, it is so awesome that I don’t have to live like this every day”. To those who struggle in this area, my heart goes out to you. But, you know, also like most people, I don’t really CHAT about all of this in an open manner. (Except when I talk about it on my public website). It’s private. At the Charmin Bathroom Facility in Times Square, it is a STRUGGLE to maintain the fact that what you are about to do in that stall is a PRIVATE matter. You really have to set your own boundaries. Don’t let them bully you!!

I joined the line.

The atmosphere is insistently festive. Off to the left is a huge play-area (no other word for it), with stages, and pom poms and big couches (some of them shaped like toilets), an area where you can wait for your family members to do their business. Charmin is everywhere. You cannot escape it. It is an onslaught of the senses.

Charmin’s mission statement, if you will.

The video screens with the dancing Bears applauding your poop/pee decision, whatever it may be.

In this great city of many sights, there is really only one place to hang out, and that is here.

Would you like to “rate your go”? Uhm no, I would not, because basically I think it is ALL terrific. This wall was a bit much. I felt a little bit scared when I first saw it. Like Mike Judge’s Idiocracy had already come true.

And here … at last … the bathroom stall area.

On the floor. Again. The exhortation to “enjoy the go”. It starts to feel like they are actually inside your head.

Uhm, yeah.

The “number one place to go number two” is my own apartment, thank you very much! This actually was not a bathroom stall, but some kind of employee area. I saw Charmin employees (“$10,000 a month, $10,000 a month …”) coming and going out of that door. Actually, none of these were “stalls”. Everyone has their own private little room.

The music blares. Charmin employees dance around with pom poms. The line is shuffled along in an orderly manner. You do not police yourselves, Charmin takes care of that. Someone goes into the bathroom. They do their thing. They “rate their go”, hopefully. Then they exit. A Charmin employee enters that particular bathroom, closes the door, and cleans up. After each person. When that task is done, they exit the bathroom, and shout something jolly like, “READY!” and then the other Charmin employee, in charge of the line of bathroom-goers, says to the next person in line, “You’re up!” It is incredibly organized and it means that even though this place must service thousands of people a day, the bathrooms gleam with cleanness.

Finally, it was my turn. I was truly excited.

I went into my bathroom. Closed the door. And promptly took 3,000 photos. When I’m fascinated with something, I go all out.

So. Let’s take a look. First of all, the music is even louder in the bathrooms. Each bathroom has its own iPod in a docking station, blaring music at you. If I had any performance anxiety in terms of bathroom behavior, the Charmin Bathroom would be a shrieking nightmare. Thank goodness I am the epitome of normal (at least in this area).

On the right hand wall beside the toilet is a Charmin bear, giving you a statement of emotional encouragement.

Thank you, Charmin! That’s so true!

If you look up you see that the ceiling of your tiny bathroom is painted with a soothing image of blue sky with clouds. Hopefully, if you have any stress about the fact that people are out there waiting to CHEER when you exit the bathroom, just looking up at that sky should relax you, and help move things along.

On the left hand wall, next to the sink, is yet another chart telling you to “rate your go” with boneheaded choices like “Moonshiner” and “Head Over Heels”. Notice the assumption that it’s always good.

This goes back to the cult-like vibe of the place and its insistence on only one possible response to going to the bathroom. As I mentioned, I am grateful for my bodily functions and that they work properly. But what about people with issues? What about people with IBS? What about people with UTIs who have issues? How should THEY “rate their go”? Shouldn’t you have at least ONE choice that says something along the lines of, “Well, it didn’t go as well as I had hoped”? So they don’t feel left out? Is Charmin not equipped (or willing) to address THOSE alternate choices in the “rate your go” posters?

Above the gleaming sink are two little cupboards (I should have looked inside) and … what a shock … another message from Charmin.

Beside the toilet is the iPod in its little hermetically sealed prison, and also 300 rolls of Charmin toilet paper. The rain forests are weeping.

I exited, having not “enjoyed my go”, because I didn’t go at all, and then meandered over into the truly frightening play area. Girls had been dancing around on the stage with pom poms doing what is, apparently, the “potty dance”.

To paraphrase Thomas Jefferson, “I tremble for my country when I realize that God is just.”

I wandered through the area, videos blaring at me from all sides, and there is a long line of open “stalls” with various activities you can do inside. You can put down your zip code in an electronic map, so they can say, “20 people from East Chapeepee Pee-Peed here.” There is also a gigantic electronic Etch a Sketch where you can “leave your mark”.

Oh, and you can bet I left my mark.

By the Exit there is a giant (and I mean) giant toilet, where you can get your picture taken. Why, God, why? I ask this as a person who took 200 pictures in a 10 minute period while I was there. Human beings don’t always make sense.

Back through the Praetorian Guard of peppy Charmin employees, who hoped I had had a good time … (uhm, yes, thanks for asking …$10,000 a month, $10,000 a month) and back down the escalator.

Of all the Charmin bears in the joint, this is the one makes me angry. I don’t know why.

Back out onto the street, where our glum-faced little toilet, who, as of January 1, will be $10,000 richer, still stood, calling people in to “enjoy their go”.

I hope you enjoyed this field trip that was years in the making. I know I did!