Dear Diary,
This is a story I think is worth telling, but it's more than a little disgusting about Number One. I've tried to make it a bit less so by letting English Wikipedia links do most of the talking about, for example, this.
Last Saturday, I had to do laundry, but also wanted to go to Bitter Lake Playfield to get the construction-related photos I'd forgotten to get on previous visits. Suddenly it occurred to me that Bitter Lake Playfield was one of the parks I'd heard had 24-hour restrooms, and is sort of near Carkeek Park, whose restrooms' 24-hourness I'd seen for myself, so I should do an "All Night Long" hike.
Well, I got to Bitter Lake around (checks to confirm, OK, I'm not senile yet) 5:30 pm. Now, September 5th was before Labor Day this year, so I figured maybe park restrooms were still closing at 9 pm, so I had to find things to do until 10:30 or so.
The construction photos filled quite a lot of that time, since one of them was to be of the playground, which was never deserted that night before sunset. So along about 8 pm I headed for Carkeek Park.
Now, one thing I failed to do before I left changed the whole night for me. My mother had taught me, when quite young, that I should always go potty before going out. But I didn't want to take my satchels into Bitter Lake Playfield's restrooms, nor leave them unattended in the crowd. So I didn't, on this occasion, heed my mother's advice.
Well, everything went fine until about mile fifty of the hundred-mile trek, that is, about mile 2 out of 3 or so, somewhere on NW 117th St, I started to experience this. At extraordinary length. When I started you, dear Diary, I can remember isolated brief episodes of that really shocking me, one actually in one of Laurelhurst Community Center's restrooms, another at Northeast branch Library waiting for a call from Anna Patrick.
The problem is an extremely common one in older men. Sometime around 2016, my first doctor on Medicaid, whom I was already starting to dislike, correctly diagnosed me with this, and prescribed this. That was in response to an isolated example of this, which also got me kicked out of Scarecrow Video's doorway. Now, the thing is, that drug is supposed to make it easier to do Number One, which I figured then was the last thing I needed. But by 2021, things had gotten enough worse that I really wanted my second Medicaid doctor to revive the prescription.
Unfortunately, the new prescription had an expiration date, which even more unfortunately came a few months after I was kicked off Medicaid for making too much money. Soon after that, the money went away too. All this in 2025.
So while what happened on the way to Carkeek Park was a shock, it shouldn't have been. I'd really messed up.
Anyway, when I finally got to Carkeek Park's restrooms, I discovered that I'd effectively filled my clothes as if they were this, and, worse, that I actually retained sensory memories of that kind of clothing. This is not as shocking as it would be for most people, thanks to a long-lasting (until age 7) primary case of this, but it still made a bad situation worse.
So, Carkeek's Shelter 2, the immense WPA one, being available, I went and vegetated until I was sick of the company of my own thoughts. The deal with Carkeek Park's restrooms being 24 hours, as our frenemy Rachel Schulkin eventually figured out, is that the parks maintenance guys at the ends of their shifts were supposed to close the gate across the only road into Carkeek. Theoretically they should first have closed the restrooms, but they didn't see any point.
Well, so I figured if the gate was already closed, I'd know the restrooms were still 24 hours. But the gate didn't close, and didn't close, and finally around 11 pm, on my third hike out there, I saw a car from PanAmerican Security enter the park. So I squelched back, much slower than the car, and it turns out this is what the doors to Carkeek Park's restrooms look like at night now:
So there I was, half done, and of course the doors to Bitter Lake Playfield's three single-user stalls were locked when I arrived. I'd only heard about those being 24 hours, mostly from homeless peers, but it was still a disappointment.
And, as it turned out, a mildly pressing disappointment; my this, itself fairly shocked by recent events, was nevertheless starting to make noises again. Obviously I'd have to walk home - I was far too smelly to take a bus. So I'd stop at one of the official 24-hour restrooms.
But why not take these lemons and make lemonade? By no means is View Ridge Playfield anywhere near my way home, but if I could get there the same night, it would be a clean sweep. All three of the 24-hour restrooms in North Seattle of which I'd learnt unofficially.
Now, at that point I wasn't thinking very rationally. But I expected View Ridge's restrooms to be closed too. I figured at some level the parks maintenance guys had been insubordinate in both cases. (My best guess, based on how they talked about View Ridge, was that they took great pride in being able to keep it open without any vandalism.) Maybe the parks department had sort of militarised, and there was no room left for anyone not a team player.
But no! I still can't show you, dear Diary, photos of View Ridge Playfield's restrooms closed. Maybe my e-mail to Christina Hirsch the next day was the first they'd heard that those restrooms were still 24 hours, maybe another security service contract was executed, and maybe they're closed right now.
But also, maybe not. The easy answer, and the most seductive to me at first, was classism. Carkeek Park is in a richer neighbourhood.
But there are other plausible answers. I'd witnessed Carkeek Park's restrooms being open, true, but I'd also witnessed loud, late-night parties at Carkeek Park. Maybe the neighbours were complaining. I've never witnessed a more plausible basis for complaint about results of 24-hour restrooms at View Ridge - well, more plausible than me.
Maybe, far from militarising, the park maintenance guys didn't mind handing over the late-night Carkeek work, but weren't going to tolerate anyone messing with their pride and joy, View Ridge.
The one thing I know is that it didn't result from high-level thought about where 24-hour restrooms would do the most good. Because such high-level thought couldn't possibly miss the suitability of Bitter Lake Playfield for the job, one block from Aurora as it is.
Part II a week from now, I hope, dear Diary. In which one of the questions is about the backward and (View Ridge) incomplete way Parks advertises its 24-hour restrooms.
Good night, dear Diary.