Let me set the scene: It was 6 pm and I was not home from work yet. I had not been home since 6:45 am. I yearned for home but I needed to pick up dinner from Pots and Pans on King James Way (aka South Main Street). Prior to this, I was at Main Library where I waved at someone who did not acknowledge my wave. Before that, I was at Target and my cashier, Mike, recognized me from middle school. He was the first boy I ever seriously kissed and he seems to have recovered okay. It was a weird day, friend.
The employees at Pots and Pans are beautiful and have nice smiles. They happily took my order and then happily told me where the restrooms were after I asked. The restrooms are behind a separate door and down a little hallway. I like when the bathrooms are separated from the eating area.
Nondescript and well-lit hallways with an assortment of discarded office furniture can be strangely delightful. I like pretending that the old office chairs have found their friends and they are happy to sit there in piles. The key hanging out of the door leading to the nondescript hallway made me momentarily nervous, but no one locked me in the furniture/bathroom hallway because no one does that. It’s just weird how, with that key hanging there, it *could* happen.
The women’s room (or “Ladies”, as it says on the door) is decent and spacious with three stalls, a double sink, and plenty of legroom. Each stall was stocked with toilet paper and in working order. The handicap accessible stall has a broken purse hook. As a whole, the bathroom was mostly clean but everything could use a good once-over. The big framed mirror above the sink adds grandeur. The Dial soap with “Miracle Oil” adds elegance, I guess.
The walls have the same light green as the rest of the restaurant. There are so many scuff marks on the walls I wonder if someone did it on purpose. That seems like a weird and inconvenient act of vandalism. The floor tile is light gray, the stall doors are black, and other features are a mix of brown, more black, and more gray. This room feels like a rainy day.
Maybe I wanted more elements of home in here because it had been a long day and I wanted to get home. Or maybe Pots and Pans itself made me feel at home (even though I’m probably not Jamaican) and I wanted that to extend to the bathroom as well. To that end, I normally would not recommend an area rug in a bathroom because that’s gross. But a colorful vinyl linoleum area rug would be awesome here. My decor wishes are not usually this specific. My decor wishes are rarely honored.
I am giving this bathroom a perfectly average rating of 2.5 toilets out of 5. Ain’t nothing wrong with average. But the Chicken Frikazee at Pots and Pans? That’s like a perfect 10.
Pots and Pans Jamaican Cuisine
325 S. Main St,
Akron, OH 44308
Upon further reflection, I am wondering if the scuff marks on the walls, which were about knee-high and/or waist-high in the large stall, originated from a specific event.
Did you know that if you want to say you have a business and do business under your business, you have to do business with the government? I mean, it wasn’t exactly big news to me, but I formed a business not too long ago, and when I started looking at paperwork and rules and laws and things of that nature, I thought, “I should probably get a lawyer.” So, I got me a lawyer. Out in the northwest corner of Akron is Cole LPA, and if you need legal advice, assistance, or advisement, you should give them a call. And if you happen to be in their office and need to do other business, business of the bathroom sort, it’s not against the law. I mean, as far as I know.
I don’t know what everyone else pictures when they think of a law office, but I had visions of what I call “boring grandeur”: various shades of beige and tan and glossy wood. I can probably thank TV for that. Cole LPA, however, is anything but boring or beige. Muted blues and interesting wallpaper with decorative flowered rugs give this old house-turned-office a lot of character. The bathroom here embraces that character at an even higher level.
This legal lavatory is small. As in, you could open the door and almost wash your hands all while sitting on the throne. Not that I did that. I did, however, gaze lovingly at the 70s era wallpaper that my mom would call, “busy.” Its blue and brown flowers are a solid nod to the blue and brown hues featured in the other rooms of the house. This bathroom feels simultaneously fancy and earthy, a challenging combination to capture. A shiny and stately wooden toilet seat really grounds that fancy-earthy element.
My favorite feature of this bathroom isn’t the toilet seat or the multitasking abilities the small bathroom offers its users (though I do appreciate them). My favorite thing here is the flowered soap dish with the braided gold stand. Upon first glance, I thought it was pretty impressive that anyone was able to find a soap dish stand and a bar of soap with a pattern on it that matched the decor. Upon second glance, I realized I’d never actually seen a soap dish stand. Sure, I’ve seen soap dishes. Most people don’t use them anymore because of liquid soap, but I like the people who stick to bar soap. It’s honest. You know what you’re getting with bar soap. My grandma sticks to bar soap. She’s 95, and if you asked her why everyone these days uses liquid soap, she’d probably raise her eyebrows and say, “Well, that’s the style.” Just a pump bottle of Dial on this sink wouldn’t do this bathroom style justice.
The bar soap in the soap dish stand perches on the counter almost as a way to say, “Hey, you *could* wash your hands and pee at the same time in here, but you shouldn’t do that because it wouldn’t be very classy of you.” Using bar soap while on the toilet probably wouldn’t be a super easy multitasking experience anyway.
The one thing that brings down the atmosphere in here is–bear with me–the trash bag. Now, it’s good to have a trash bag in the trash can in the bathroom. However, this trash bag is not properly sized for the trash can with which it is paired, so much of the bag is hanging over the trash can, making the can itself not visible. Yes, I know, it’s a trash can, why do we want to see it? Well, I don’t know because I couldn’t see it. I didn’t think to lift the bag to check out what was housing my crumpled paper towels, but I should have. I’m hoping the can somehow matches the soap dish stand. And if it does, that vision of grandeur should clearly be visible to any who enter this esteemed establishment.
Cole LPA, your bathroom gets a 4.5/5 toilets. Your trash collection receptacle is shrouded in ambiguity, but your plumbing is prime, and your soap gets the respect it deserves.
863 N. Cleveland-Massillon Rd.
Akron, OH 44333
Marissa has a business that does business but not of the bathroom sort.