The women of Eichardt’s need to know

By Marjolein Groot Nebbelink
Reader Contributor

The women servers and regular patrons of Eichardt’s — the amazingly cozy, European-style pub on 212 Cedar St. — are calling upon the greater Sandpoint community to assist in the identification of a man whose image appeared in the women’s bathroom. There isn’t a clear consensus about precisely when it appeared, but it was early this fall. 

Our quest regards the photograph of a man seated on a rather clean toilet, wearing red pants and knickers around his ankles, a purple T-shirt, wristwatch and a brown ball cap. This friendly-seeming person enthusiastically gives a thumbs up to anyone themselves settled atop the ladies’ loo, with an enormous smile on his face. His other hand is resting (we hope) between his legs. There is graying stubble on his face, but no beard. A good set of teeth and his ears have the look of being slightly too low on his head. 

Curiously, this toilet is set on the forest floor with two residential structures within sight. A mature cedar and some fir give the impression that the moment was snapped in a rural setting — definitely not in town. Another possible clue is the wristwatch, which most of modern society ditched when smartphones took off. 

The image is on true photo paper (not printed), framed and the colors are slightly muted. All of this leads us to believe this picture might be as many as 15-20 years old, and the man may be 50-60 years old by now. 

Is it someone we know? We don’t know. It must be someone somebody we know knows. We asked each other on dollar beer night (8 p.m. every Thursday), and even invited some men into the lavatory to shed light on the situation. Someone took a picture of the photo so they could zoom in to have a closer look. One woman gasped, “And you could tell by… that?!” But she meant she could zoom in on his face. Obviously. 

And despite our diligent efforts, the toilet man remains a mystery.

The visual representation of a man with his trousers down, or even missing, in itself isn’t anything new to Eichardt’s, nor does it offend anyone we know. After all, a large print of Eichardt’s women, naked in the snow, hangs in the main dining room for all to see. The disturbing factor is this man’s unestablished identity. 

You see, there is somewhat of a prerogative to being pinned up in the ladies’ room with exposed buttocks. There is a picture on the sidewall of the stall showing about 10 men, lined up in the back corner of the pub, completely naked, facing away from the camera. If you ask around, someone should be able to name all of them without much effort. There is also a painting by the hand towel dispenser of four guys, again butt-naked and facing away to maintain a shadow of decency. One looks over his shoulder, wearing sunglasses, and gives us a cheeky smile. 

Currently, most of us know who most of the bare asses belong to. Additionally, their placements are such that it is optional to gaze at them as you are disrobed and doing your business. This “new” man is placed directly in front of the seated person, at eye level. There is simply no escape. It is not sexy; we’re certain he’s doing No. 2; and there are standards, however dim, to showing off your buns, however nice, in the women’s washroom.

Marjolein Groot Nebbelink wrote this piece for and in collaboration with the women of Eichardt’s.