Verified public free bathrooms — with real parking options — mapped by a rideshare driver who needed them as bad as you do.
My first month as a rideshare driver, I had to go — badly — and got refused. Gas station in Downtown SF. “Can I use your bathroom?” No. “What if I buy something?” No. Two flat no's. I left.
I opened my map, found a “bathroom,” parked without paying, and ran. It was a construction site. Couldn't get in. So I ran back — no jogging this time, we run — got in the car, and this time I slowed down. I looked for a real public bathroom. I locked in. full stop. relief.
“I don't remember the bathroom. I remember the feeling of finding a place I knew would let me in.”
Field journal. All true. Some funnier in hindsight.
The map said public restroom. It was a closed coffee shop. Trust, but verify.
Downtown SF, no options left. Flashers on, dove into a construction porta-potty. Having to pee gives you a courage you didn't know you had.
Sometimes there is no exit in time. Sometimes the shoulder is the bathroom.
The map said public restroom. It was a closed coffee shop. Trust, but verify.
Downtown SF, no options left. Flashers on, dove into a construction porta-potty. Having to pee gives you courage you didn't know you had.
Sometimes there is no exit in time. Sometimes the shoulder is the bathroom.
Open the app. Find a verified stop. Park. Go. That's it.
Every pin was walked to, parked at, and used. No guesses, no stale crowd data.
You can't abandon your car. So every stop spells out the parking — street or lot, free or metered.
No purchase. No code. No asking. No “customers only.” If you can't just walk in, it's not a Full Stop.
9 months. {{ countLine }} across San Francisco and the northern Peninsula.
A handful of stops I'd stake my own bladder on beats a thousand I've never seen.
Every pin — hours, parking, and a note I wrote myself.
When that gas station turned me away, I wasn't angry. I was sad...I was sad that one person would deny another something as basic as a place to go. So I started keeping the spots that wouldn't turn me away. I parked at each one, walked in, and used it myself — often on a ten-minute break, with a bowl of fresh-cut fruit waiting in the car. The bad ones never made the map — no running water, locked doors, a “public” bathroom that stopped me to ask if I belonged. What's left is the map I use myself.
“Free public bathrooms, real parking, no asking. Pull over and breathe. That's a Full Stop.”