Hidden Slope Oracle: The Tea Lounge Bathroom?

Disclaimer so we don't get sued: This isn't the Tea Lounge bathroom (which, all things considered, is actually pleasant). [ed note: SERIOUSLY?? I ACTUALLY FIND THE TEA LOUNGE BATHROOM TO BE SRSLY VILE]. This is the old CBGB bathroom.  But I'm busy providing photographic ponderance material, so go with me here.

This past weekend, I spent a total of nine hours loitering in the Tea Lounge (with good reason, I assure you): seven on Saturday, and then another two on Sunday.  (To be fair, the ratio of $$ to time I spent may work out to a number that leans more towards "squatting" than "loitering.")

Because downing three large, light ice, hazelnut iced coffees with nonfat milk and a Splenda (in case any of you are dying to buy me a drink next time I'm editing) over the course of five hours is basically the equivalent of consuming a box of diuretic pills like they're Flintstones vitamins, I headed to that bathroom a few times.  And let me tell you, Park Slope; the pearls of wisdom you've left up on those walls for urinators to read--well, I'm speechless.

Among them: An obviously internet-derived statement about graffiti being the purest form of art, something metaphoric about "corduroy children" (so epic, in fact that, my friend turned and asked me, "Can I name a book that?"), and near-countless instances about people frantically needing to unearth the meaning of life while peeing in a Brooklyn cafe john.  Erica, I may also note a large "OLIVER" scrawled in silver across the hand dryer of the right side bathroom.  Not an 867-5309 in sight; clearly, that's child's play.

Let me be the first to offer you sage advice; before you decide to end it all, consult the walls of the Tea Lounge bathroom.  You'll either feel saved as a heightened sense of euphoria washes over you, or find a good, concrete reason to reinforce your decision.