26 Little W. 12th St., nr. Ninth Ave.; 646-624-2444
Concept: A small, office-type restroom lit like a mortuary, with a touch of Zen via a sunken marble sink, incense sticks, and a tray of stones.
Privacy: Bathroom attendants watch over the aluminum stalls. At least the ones in the women's room dish compliments.
Amenities: Gentlemen get cologne (D, Polo Sport, etc.) and FX Studio hair gel (yes, this is the meatpacking district), while ladies get perfume (Burberry, etc.) and makeup. Both sexes enjoy Listerine served in a plastic shot glass, Lubriderm, floss, toothpicks, plastic-wrapped Breathsavers, and thick, hand-delivered paper towels.
Flaws: If somebody goes to town on the gel and cologne, you're stuck waiting for one of the two faucets. Then there's the discomfort factor of hovering attendants.
Strategy: Pity the poor attendants. At least they're not the type to admonish, "No hope without soap." Put a dollar in the tip jar.