Rating (as a bathroom): 2.5/5 Flushes
Rating (as a bomb shelter): 4.5/5 Flushes
Single / Multi-person: Single
Stats: 1 toilet, 1 sink, 1 will to survive
Amenities: Music
Hand Drying: Paper towels in a dish
Auto / Manual Flush: Manual
Atmosphere: Simple
Smell: Fresh, hint of Febreeze
Cleanliness: Very
Quick note on the food: Great bacon. (for more, visit twoeatphilly)
Tinto's bathroom may very well be the most well-equipped apocalyptic shelter in Philadelphia's entire restaurant district. However, pulling out all the stops to protect yourself from just about everything doesn't leave much room for quality bathroom furnishings. Let's see how they cut costs...
The first thing you'll notice upon entering this 50-square-foot bathroom is the super-busy magic eye wallpaper that, if you relax your eyes and stare at it long enough, will reveal a hidden image of a terrible choice in wallpaper. Looks like they could only afford one wall's worth though... The air was flooded with the same music that was playing in the restaurant - the smooth Spanish tunes of Carlos Santana and Shakira imitators. Pure unlicensed, uncopyrighted gold.
But oh no, it didn't end there. Nothing beats "Quality Bathroom Tissue" when it comes to top brands of toilet paper. Overcompensating quantity for quality with three extra rolls never hurts. But by far the best way to save money is to buy a trashcan that's hilariously small. Like maybe-can-fit-10-paper-towels-on-a-good-day small. Fantastic.
At first glance, few may realize that this small restroom actually doubles as a defense-against-everything bunker. Two hand rails around the toilet help you stay steady during all the devastating earthquakes that frequent the east coast. Fire alarms will be sure you're the first to know about any major fires. "What about floods?" you ask. No worries. A drain in the floor will take care of that (and I guess the drain in the sink would too if it gets that high).
"No big deal" you might say. "What typical restaurant bathroom doesn't have those things?" Fine. But what if there's an air raid? Or poison gas attack? Or terrorists have taken everyone in the restaurant hostage and are about to break down the door? What can your glorious bathroom do for you now?! Enter Tinto's architect. Big speaker for air raid siren: check. Poison gas monitor: check. Secret ceiling escape hatch: check. Nooooo problem, Jimmy.
Now assume WWIII begins while you're on the pot and an atomic bomb blows away 3 walls and the ceiling. Bonebowl. But wait! Not all hope is lost! You can still use the swiveling mirror on the remaining wall as a heliograph to signal for other survivors off in the distance (just pray that they're directly in front of you). And just to be safe, in case there's a zombie takeover, they conveniently left a grenade for you on the sink. How thoughtful.
Employees must wash hands before returning to what's left of the world.