My ideas get goofy sometimes. Plenty of evidence of that. Last night, I had dinner with a couple of old friends. We were fighting yesterday’s wars and not drinking water. Alcohol only stimulates a bladder already confused by MS, the gift that keeps on giving. I had never eaten at this place and did not know my way around. I grabbed my cane to head toward the back of the restaurant, where I assumed the facilities were. I discovered what I always hope to avoid. There was the dreaded steep stairway down.
My descent was slow and cautious. I felt I was on a ladder with steps. God bless handrails. The slow speed of my trek was made more exciting by the urgency to reach my destination. I have yet to lose that race but have come close to a tie. Relief was tempered by anticipation of the climb back north.
I got back to the table, glancing at my wine glass, still not quite empty. I was not even tempted. Two round trips were not gaining entry to my future. I said to my companions, I am going to put together a short guide to identifying eating and drinking establishments where restrooms are located on the same floor as the tables. Meredith suggested finding places without stairs to gain entry from the street.
As with any city, New York has an army of older and disabled residents and visitors who would appreciate any guidance they can get. Ours is an old city full of dungeon bathrooms in public places. The Americans with Disabilities Act exempts public structures that predate the legislation. That means a huge group of restaurants are free to stick restrooms twenty-six feet under.
My only question is how I am going to identify these businesses spread all over New York City. I don’t see taking my cane and hobbling around five boroughs, much as I would like to do that in the freezing cold. This is going to be a challenge. Anyone have any ideas? By the way, you are welcome to steal the idea of writing this short book. I would rather read than write it.