On the Fatal Flaw of Co-working Spaces

I’m trying out this co-working space…you know, you pay a monthly membership and in return you basically get to be a part of an office. You get a desk and wifi and there are other people around you working, only you’re all working on whatever the hell you want and no one’s yelling at you for failing to fill out your TPS reports.

It’s a nice concept, and it’s certainly making me more productive. I’ve showered and I’m wearing pants, and I feel bad dicking around when all these people can see me. Except I have one big problem with this place.

See, there’s a sign out front that claims this is “the office you wish you had.” But they’re falling short of that mark. It’s not the desks or the decor or atmosphere or anything. No, it’s the bathrooms.

My ideal office has an institutional bathroom. The kind with three or more of everything: stalls, sinks, urinals, paper-towel dispensers. A bathroom that’s cleaned twice a day by janitorial staff, and that’s uncomfortably well-lit. A place you can take a break, lock yourself in a stall and play Carcassonne on your phone for twenty minutes. A haven, where no one comes knocking. This place has a perfectly serviceable bathroom, but it’s just a toilet in a dimly-lit room, and everybody has to share.

This can never really be “the office I wish I had” without the office bathroom I wish I had.

Ah well, we all have our burdens to bear.


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