My vote for this dubious and singular honor goes without a doubt to...

drum roll please

John Harvard's Brew House, at 33 Dunster St. in Harvard Square, Cambridge, MA.

Why? Good question. Not for the state of cleanliness (although that isn't bad) and not for the service (which isn't) and not for the scenery or entertainment options (ain't none).

Nope. It's because the right-hand urinal of the two has, just over it's flush handle, a ventilation duct outlet. It's covered by a metal grid. Best of all, it is unfailingly blowing cool, dry, odorless air directly onto the bridge of my nose as I utilize the facilities. It is, perhaps, the cleanest spot in a (not too bad) bathroom; this means you can (late at night) lean over and place your forehead on it, drawing comfort, stability and solace from the rushing chill oxygenated atmosphere that dances over your face, drawing the toxins and the dizziness and the headache and the nausea out from your tortured body.

That, plus the satisfaction of a well earned chunder, make me a happy man.

I've had strangers slap my shoulder in sympathetic cameraderie as I rested there, to take my place as I left, foreheads placed against the cool grey surface.

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