Even though it's winter and you may be childless, there're always times when you gotta drop the kids off at the pool. So, here's a guide to five neighborhood spots with A-plus facilities and relatively easy, employee-free access:
Euphoria Smoothies & Coffee
1001 N 2nd St, Suite 23; Northern Liberties; 215.238.9209
Tucked away in the Piazza, Euphoria Cafe's solo job (hard right at the main entrance and you're there) is perfumed with coffee beans and tea satchels placed on Patagonian-style accent furniture, which's surrounded by wall-art mountain-scapes -- ironic, as those're places where people actually pray for a dump.
The Market at Comcast Center
via Suburban Station
To escape cruddy SEPTA thrones, head into the CC, making a right in the middle of the Food Court, up a few stairs, and through some glass doors, where (presumably) an employee men's room is tucked away down a hall on the right; inside there're three well-kept stalls, white tiles, and a stone counter, also what tells Jack Nicholson he overdid it on crumpets when he's in the UK.
Cups & Chairs Tea Cafe
701-03 S 5th St, at Monroe St; Queen Village; 215.238.8832
Take advantage of this QV bakery/ cafe's two private jobs (with legit, upscale paper) interference-free by coming in the side (not corner) entrance and passing between the sofas, then hitting either of the first two doors, although be warned that Jim Morrison will likely hit you back. Dude is mean.
120 S 17th St; Rittenhouse Square; 215.569.8300
Take the Sansom St entrance and turn left at Chez Colette's faux-awning, where the first door will take you to a super-swank single with a black granite counter, hexagonal sink, and a strong-flushing john, also what they called Charlie Sheen after he beat Heidi Fleiss in poker.
Four Seasons Hotel
1 Logan Square; Art Museum; 215.963.1500
Cut down 18th St to the Four Seasons' open courtyard, where the first set of double doors on the right will put you directly in front of a swanky men's room rocking twin classic-styled WCs with louvered doors, classical music, a shoe shine station, and leather ottomans, a condition that suggests they were the original Empire of the Sun.