The amazing, incredible, tiny all-at-once bathroom


August 7, 2001

I spent the last two consecutive weekends in Palo Alto, Calif., because my college roommate, Sean, was getting married, and I was part of the wedding party. I stayed with my friend moe., a Canadian college friend who likes spelling his name with untraditional capitalization and punctuation. He also likes playing hockey. I think there may be a connection between this violent sport and the choice to spell his name like this, possibly involving a hockey puck to the head.

Anyway, I hadn't previously been to moe.'s new residence, which he shares with two fellow Canadian Stanford students. One of moe.'s roommates was out of the apartment over the weekends, and I stayed in his room, where a Canadian flag hangs directly over the bed. Once, in the middle of the night, I woke up, saw the maple leaf flag in all its glory, and -- temporarily unsure where I was -- got REALLY confused and somewhat frightened. I now uncontrollably shutter every time I see a bottle of syrup.

But that is not what this column is about. This column is about the bathroom at moe.'s place, and how it represents important, compelling real estate issues in the Silicon Valley.

Seriously. No, I haven't taken a hockey puck to the head.

While moe. was driving me to his apartment after he picked me up from the airport the first weekend, he gave me a heads-up about the bathroom.

"We're trying to get some sort of plaque from the state declaring it as California's smallest bathroom," he said, explaining that it was possible to -- let me phrase this delicately -- do one's toilet-related, sit-down business, wash one's hair in the shower and brush one's teeth at the sink simultaneously.

After spending two weekends there, I can now say, in complete and total seriousness, moe. was not exaggerating. It is literally possible.

In order to sit down on the toilet, you have to maneuver your body carefully between the sink and the shower. When seated, the sink is essentially on your lap. While sitting on the porcelain throne, I was able to put my left shoulder flush against the bathroom's left wall, reach over the shower and touch the right wall, not even fully extending my right arm. It's simply amazing. It makes some camping trailer restrooms I've seen look spacious.

You see, they can get away with things like this in Palo Alto, because it is in the heart of the Silicon Valley, where the housing market is one of the most expensive in the nation. Don't get me wrong; the place moe. and his roommates share is perfectly nice, clean (well, it's clean for a bachelor's pad, at least) and safe. But if an agent were showing their apartment to prospective tenants here in Reno, there would be some serious chortling involved when the tenants saw the bathroom, and probably not too much rentin' going on.

I lived in Palo Alto for about six months after I graduated from college before returning to Reno, so I know the Santa Clara County housing market quite well. Me and my friends Laura and Jeremy got one helluva deal -- and I am not being the least bit facetious when I say that -- on a three-bedroom, two-bath apartment that was located along a busy street and right next to the Caltrain tracks (when a train went by, you could feel it). While everything worked just fine, the apartment had -- putting things euphemistically -- a "rustic" feel. And we paid $1,450 per month for it.

Keep in mind that this was four years ago, and housing prices have climbed substantially since then, even with the dot-com collapses as of late. I imagine that the landlords today could EASILY get $1,800-$2,000 per month for the same place today. In Reno, my guess is that the same apartment would cost $600, maybe as high as $800 if the landlords found a real sucker.

The moral of all these facts, figures and numbers? Well, first, think twice before complaining about housing prices here in the Truckee Meadows. Second, enjoy the spaciousness of your bathroom. Third, keep maple syrup the hell away from me. And finally, avoid hockey pucks to the head, because they can lead to serious confusion.

Jimmy Boegle is a fifth-generation Nevadan who congratulates Sean and Grace on their union. Jimmy's column appears here Tuesdays, and he can be reached via e-mail at jiboegle@stanfordalumni.org.

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