Taking a crap can be an often tedious and grueling business (especially for those that eat at Cellar). The irresistible urge can come at any time or place, and who knows what kind of toilet paper will be at hand!

Fortunately, Tucson has a giant heap of pooping options just waiting to be tested out. “”I don’t crap in public,”” you say? Even the prude poopers can take advantage of these hot spots … just pee instead.

If you don’t, you might miss a wonderful opportunity. The bathrooms in the surrounding campus areas are some of the best the world has to offer. Okay, that’s made up, but wouldn’t it be cool to compare?

Here are some of my favorite picks. (And for those of you sensationalists, a few of the real shitty ones are at the end.) Take a look. It might just be some good bathroom reading.

Literary load

For a store that sells old magazines from 1995 and

ratty science fiction books, Bookman’s independent chain of used bookstores has some surprisingly eloquent lavatories. Note, each of the three Tucson locations has two unisex one-stall bathrooms, with “”vacant/occupied”” signs to avoid any confusion. The walls are lined with framed art, and the Spanish dǸcor is coupled with fancy tile. The only drawback is that you can’t bring in merchandise, so forget about snatching up that adult title you got from the pornier cabinet. This shitter is classy!

Coffee crap

The Epic Cafe, 745 N. Fourth Ave., might just have the most unique bathroom in Tucson, boasting all sorts of colorful and intricate

graffiti art. Users are also encouraged to write on the walls if they get inspired, which makes for some interesting but sometimes unintelligible reading. “”Toilet paper is so American,”” on one part of the wall is followed by the retort, “”Well, then God bless America!”” But my favorite is the intricate llama graffiti stencil, because I just love to look at animals when I dispose of their remains. The only drawback is you have to touch this disgusting rubber chicken to get in, because the key is attached. Who knows how sanitary that is.

Once-a-month dump

You might only want to visit this marble shrine only

occasionally because it’s located in the J.W. Marriot Star Pass Hotel, 3800 W. Starr Pass Blvd., which is basically a 20-minute drive into the desert. I only mention it because this bathroom actually has free tampons and maxi-pads. You might have to put up with a few rich yuppies and old farty ladies wondering why you’re there, but the money you’ll save is probably worth it. If you want a shorter drive, try the Marriot on campus, but then you’ll probably have to deal with the even worse breed of picky sorority girls that refuse to go anywhere else.

A more private affair

My friend James probably has the coolest bathroom in the universe, because you can actually

take a shower while you’re sitting on the toilet. The showerhead is bent so much that it actually sprays more water outside the stall than inside. If you open the shower curtains and turn on the spout, you might not even need to use toilet paper when you’re done.

Toilet of champions

Championship Dining, 446 N. Campbell Ave., Unit 3104, probably has the most upscale toilet in the

surrounding campus area. They actually have a TV inside! So if you can’t stop watching the sports game for two minutes to empty your bladder, you no longer have to fret. Next thing, they’ll be putting the Internet in there. Championship bathrooms also have diagonal stone sinks that pour into a long slot the size of a credit card swipe. Very strange. Last but not least, they also have a coat hanger inside each intimate stall. Now that’s swanky.

And now, the worst of the worst…

Fried crap

The Grill, 100 E. Congress St., is kind of like a shitty version of the bathroom at Epic. It also

has cool graffiti on the walls, but this time it’s more scattered and accompanied by really creepy sayings instead of dumb political ones. The bathroom may be bigger, but there’s always something wrong with the toilet (not even gonna go into it) and the drunken people leave the ground messy as hell. The Grill’s a pretty cool place, but mostly just to eat.

No shit

Lindy’s Diner, 431 N. Fourth Ave., has the worst bathroom in Tucson. That’s because they

don’t have one, or at least it’s not available to the public. For a burger place that stays open for the bar rush on the weekends, it’s really pretty mean to restrict the poor drinkers from letting out their liquid sins, especially when nowhere else is open. I guess you can say the Lindy’s bathroom is on the street behind someone’s parked car.

Just nasty

To continue with the Fourth Avenue debaucheries, It’s ’bout Time, 616 N. Fourth Ave., or IBT’s to most people, commits the worst sin in bathroom history: rolling towel dispensers.

You know what they are: the hanging bath towels that never get washed and just keep revolving around until they turn brown and smell like fish mold. This particular towel was dripping wet and so disgusting looking I refused to wash my hands at all, which is probably almost as bad. For a dive bar with tons of germs floating around, you’d think they would at least give you electric hand dryers. But what takes the cake is the blaring sign in front of the toilet that reads, “”Any persons using or selling drugs on these premises will be subject to arrest.”” Real comforting.