Women may not realize this, but ladies’ rooms are almost mythical places to many men.
We’ve heard tales of the pink palatial rooms that are kept spotlessly clean and equipped with chaise lounges and other luxurious features. But we haven’t seen them, of course — they’re forbidden territory.
There’s nothing mythical about men’s rooms, however. This photo of the facilities at one of the joints along Frenchmen Street gives you an idea of what to expect.
Webner House 
Ladies rooms smell better. There’s no wall of Man Smell that hits you in the face as you cross the threshold, the one that can only be described as “brown.”
But because most of us actually wash our hands, there’s always a small tsunami of water standing on the counter around the sinks. Somehow, literally every square inch of surface is wet as if someone did a science experiment to see just how many liters of liquid this style of counter would hold.
Occasionally, you’ll see a woman grab a few handfuls of paper towels (if there are any; another problem) and attempt to staunch the rising tide but you can time her frustration with the hopelessness of it all in three…two…one…there she goes, out the door, muttering to herself.
Biggest downside: the ladies room is where all the screaming toddlers go, literally and figuratively. Oh, for Ritalin in a dart gun.
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