Where do people pee in Seattle? Bushes, bottles and Pike Place Market

SEATTLE – When you’re out in Seattle and nature calls, you may want tell nature to call back another time.

Seattle Times readers made that crystal clear when they were asked where they go to pee. Almost 1,000 responses poured in, painting a picture of a city with seriously limited toilet options.

“I’m a runner with the curse of a small bladder,” Ben Barber wrote. “Honey Buckets are such a saving grace that I got a tattoo of one.”

Many people let fly in alleys or behind bushes. Some employ more extreme strategies. They carry bottles. Wear diapers. Hoard door codes. Tell lies.

“I’ve very nearly pooped myself more times than I can count,” wrote a reader who has irritable bowel syndrome. “I’ve navigated hospital buildings (and pretended to have an appointment), run into the woods, hobbled into alleyways, slipped past baristas, acted like I work in buildings … and jumped into countless portable bathrooms on/near construction sites.”

Other people have given up completely.

“It is the primary reason why I’m reluctant to visit downtown anymore in the city I was born in, grew up in and was once so proud of,” Ron Suttell said.

Some of these responses are gross, and “It may seem like a joke to some,” but it’s a serious problem, Suttell added. So, hold your nose and read on.

Scout your route

Ever heard the phrase: “By failing to plan, you’re planning to fail”?

That’s why plenty of readers identify potential pit stops before leaving home.

“My wife and I walk all over town, and we try to map out trips that have a bakery with a restroom or a park with a restroom,” one urban hiker reported.

Years ago, Michael Herschens created a mental guide called “Pee in the City” to memorize the restrooms along his regular bicycle routes. “I bet every cyclist can name them,” he said.

Some readers use technology: There’s a mobile app called Flush that maps retail restrooms, and Seattle recently launched an online dashboard for restrooms in parks. Others readers count on specific businesses.

“Ever year at the Pride parade, the third-floor restroom in Nordstrom is my ALLY,” one person disclosed.

Pike Place Market restrooms are relatively abundant and reliable, several readers noted, though the short-walled stalls don’t provide much privacy.

Susanna Ryan, who wrote and illustrated the popular Seattle Walk Report book, “would be absolutely lost” without library restrooms.

They’re not always open, Ryan said. “But I’m overall grateful to have them, and it beats buying a $5 scone just to use the restroom.”

Buy a brew (or beg)

Let’s talk about that $5 scone.

You enter a business. Desperate, your eyes start scanning, looking for that merciful symbol of stick people to point you to relief. But, wait! There’s a sign, “For paying customers only.” Or a giant lock on the door.

With limited public options across Seattle, businesses have become a frequent fallback. Bars, restaurants and coffee shops are popular destinations for Times readers. Supermarkets, too.

“Trader Joe’s is often my savior,” one reader reported.

Many shops try to avoid toilet trouble by requiring purchases, which for some readers is no problem: “If I have to, I will buy a drink,” one said.

Having to pee can even be an excuse to try out a new watering hole.

“I typically have no issues,” a reader wrote. “Just go to a bar/restaurant, have a cocktail, use the restroom, and if the place is cool, stick around.”

But that’s a privilege and not something everyone can do.

“Why should a $4 Rainier be the requirement?” wondered Paul Summers.

Neal Callahan doesn’t think it should. Years ago, he began posting the door codes to Seattle retail restrooms on Twitter and encouraging other people to do the same, using the hashtag #Pee4Free, he said.

“The Pee4Free movement has grown since its inception, with participants listing codes all around the country,” he said.

Some businesses reject everyone or pick and choose who can use the loo, readers said.

“We were buying a few items in a small store in the U District and my grandson needed to pee … they said ‘no,’” a reader named Jill recalled.

Added Frank Whiten: “We inevitably run into bathroom issues in the downtown corridor. Whether it’s being rejected as a young Black teen at First Avenue restaurants or attempting to find options after an event.”

Like the day Danny Berman entered a Starbucks in Belltown in serious need.

“And was told they had no restrooms (even for paying customers),” Berman said. “So I walked outside and peed right there in the street.”

When you gotta go …

Peeing outside was a major theme among responses to The Times.

“I look for shaded, hidden places or an alley and let loose,” one person admitted. “I do my best to make sure no one is around who could see me.”

And it’s not just homeless people who have to go outdoors. Not by any means.

Miranda Holtgrefe is a landscaper and her clients don’t open their homes, she said. When the restrooms in Lincoln Park were closed last winter, “I was forced to find a secluded area in the park and pee outside,” she said.

It’s no wonder some Seattle street corners smell like urine, another person wrote, placing the blame on policymakers: “Cities that don’t accommodate biological functions are going to have bodily products strewn about.”

As for Ballard’s brewery district, a reader named Robert said, “After a few hazy IPAs, a wall, tree, bush or back alley are acceptable locations for #1.”

Retired doctor Reiley Kidd has to pee often for medical reasons and has “answered the call in people’s yards” while on strolls, Kidd said.

People with medical conditions are particularly challenged. Washington state law says customers carrying proof of eligible medical conditions must be allowed to use employee restrooms in stores, but making use of the law isn’t always easy.

“I have even had to relieve myself in bushes and, as disgusting as this sounds, had to use my sock to clean myself,” a reader with irritable bowel syndrome reported.

Even when public restrooms are available, they may not be clean and safe. One reader complained that they “become homeless shelters and drug dens.”

A reader named Dylan said he was initially disturbed when he saw a person he perceived as homeless peeing into a storm drain outside a library. Then he realized the library wasn’t open yet and he reconsidered his opinion.

“Can I really be upset when this person has nowhere else to go?” he asked.

Pack a bottle, wear a diaper

Readers shared a steady stream of strategies for coping with the situation.

Minnie Lai said she walks into office buildings downtown and pretends to be visiting a friend or attending an interview. Another reader once lied about being on her period so she could access a supermarket toilet. And a reader who would like to take transit drives instead, with a bucket for emergencies.

Doug Cotton does takes transit, but: “As an old guy riding the bus (jiggle, bounce, bump), there’s no restroom known to me along any of the five or six routes I frequently ride,” he said. “So I carry a bottle with a wide opening and a tight, screw-on lid.”

There are other precautions.

“I am an older adult. I don’t leave home without wearing a diaper,” one reader said. “There are just too few public restrooms to take a chance.”

Still, accidents happen. A reader who reported pooping in an alley after being turned away by three businesses “had to ride a bus home stinking.”

Another person was stranded in her wheelchair while waiting for a ride after visiting a food bank that didn’t have a restroom she could use.

“I wound up urinating all over myself and my wheelchair,” the reader wrote. “Disabled people are directly impacted by these choices.”

Ren Wilcox, who lives in Seattle, added, “The war on homeless people has also become a war on disabled people, and it makes our city so hostile.”

A sad solution that readers shared?

Staying home.

“I have a GI condition. When it flares, I need a toilet NOW! So I sometimes don’t attend events or activities if I don’t know there will be one available,” one person said.

Or moving away altogether.

Sara Barker said she’s considered relocating to the Kitsap Peninsula because a ferry commute would include better restroom access. “At least I won’t wet myself or get arrested or assaulted for peeing in public because there’s no other option.”