Chevron

Chevron

Dunwoody, GA

Reviewed August 10th, 2004

The Creme de la Creme of gas station restrooms... or so I'd have liked it to be. Standing before the sliding glass doors of the Chevron whilst the pale full moon stood steadfast above my sweaty brow. I walked forth into the land of cheddar-laden snacks, convenience, and more importantly, a restroom.

Shifting my eyes longingly toward the Arial-typefaced "Restroom" sign, I stepped up my pace and opened the partially-rusted lock from which I'd hoped Heaven would await on the other side. Rather, I received quite a stench from the porcelain and urine-encrusted toilet, sitting about five not-so-invitingly feet before me. Sensing this was no time to question the facilities -- this would be done at a later date, like perhaps now -- I unleashed the fury and prepared to wash my hands.

My heart genuinely sank as I realized the lack of foamy soap products or paper towels (fit for a king!). Contemplating the circus of microbial action on my fingertips, I turned the long-unwashed handle of the sink -- cold, as hot did not work -- and gasped inaudibly beneath my breath as the fresh water ran over my skin.

Oh, sweet Jesus, this was heaven.

I could practically feel my sins of the day washing free of my mortal soul. "Beauty," I thought as I hastily wiped my hands across my pant legs and turned to exit. Looking back, it probably wasn't quite so eventful or thought-out, but in retrospect it takes on its own life.

I give this restroom a 6 out of 10. I do enjoy washing my hands.

RESTROOM RATING: 6
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