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A Nautical Oasis at D’lish by Tish

It might be a bit premature, as we’re only two washrooms in, but I believe Tish’s nautical loo has forced itself into the conversation [that no one is having (yet)] for best themed washroom in the city. Going nautical is a borderline provocative choice, Tish, considering we’re in a landlocked city some 1,500 kms away from the nearest ocean; like painting stacks of money in the washroom of a homeless shelter. But the maritime theme does run consistent with the general wayfaring/globetrotty feel in D’Lish by Tish, with its very large world map, eclectic decor, and exotic, hard to pronounce menu items like huevos bucerías, latte, and soup.

On to the w’shrooms.

There are two single occupant washrooms, both unisex, which is a bit unfortunate considering the missed opportunity to label the washrooms Buoys and Anchers, or something similarly stupid – an obvious oversight by Tish. Or, in keeping with nautical themed unisex rooms, they could’ve been labelled Flush Deck and Poop Deck – another gross oversight, Tish. In truth, I don’t actually know if both washrooms share the same theme, as I only visited one [there were people outside the doors, and walking out of one washroom only to enter the other would probably start a conversation I didn’t want to have.]

Unmistakably, the washroom is painted like the wooden hull of a ship, furnished with circular window-like paintings of seascapes, fish netting draped from the ceiling, an old lantern, conch shell, and parrot perched overtop a sign that reads “The cure for anything is salt. Sweat, tears, or the sea.” No attributed source but I’m just going to assume it’s from Tish herself. And most importantly, despite tight quarters in the coffee shop itself, the washroom is roomy and gives the impression of being tucked off far away. Altogether, the thematic composition is pleasant and a bit amusing in it’s arbitrariness; it makes one want to go to sea, or at the very least, splash some water around and exfoliate the skin. And thankfully, the decor is not overdone with harpoons fastened to the wall and photos of a mascara clad Johnny Depp.

And thankfully, the washroom breaks character for that which truly matters. It’s extremely clean and well tended to. The toilet is average, but Tish doesn’t skimp on the TP, so sit and luxuriate in the doubly ply velvetiness. Standard fare for the facets and sink, but pump soap produces a bit of a urethral blast, so use caution, seafarers. And in a moment of supreme clarity, Tish opts for neither a paper towel dispenser or air drier, but to stash her booty [paper towel] in a small treasure chest. When your washroom has no other hand-free offerings, a stack of PT will make up for nearly everything.

Which brings me to the one knock on Tish’s n’tical w’shroom. The door sucks and it feels like a swashbuckling beachcomber might fall through it at any moment. There’s also no trash can near the door, which means the quasi-germaphobe has to open the door with a handful of paper towel, and adrift back in to dispose of the PT. Is this an inconvenience? Absolutely not, but we’re nearing washroom perfection here, and the details matter. Get kraken on that extra trash can, Tish.

A near s’wish by Tish: 0/5

[Washrooms are rated on a scale of 1 to 5, with a maximum rating of 1 and a minimum of -5]