Concept: Like we said, Nacho Libre: Backlit luchadores posters (and wallpaper) brighten up dark-wood fixtures that look like they came from an Oaxacan monastery.
Privacy: The sliver of a men's room has no lock, despite the uncomfortable proximity of the sarcophagus-like urinals the oddest (and most impressive) this side of P.J. Clarke's.
Amenities: In the two unisex rooms, dozens of TP rolls are shelved behind chicken wire. There's a cape hook, throwback wooden sinks, an Oscar the Grouch–like trash can, and a can of Febreze spray.
Flaws: To secure the mammoth sliding doors of the individual WCs, it sometimes takes more strength than what we imagine a wispy model can muster; the latch rattles unnervingly when someone tries to get in.
Strategy: On the off chance there isn't a line, use the restroom on the left, which is much larger than the one on the right.
Rating: — Daniel Maurer