This is Trade Secrets, a new series from The Standard that features unusual or fascinating jobs around the city. Have a tip or suggestion? Email reporter Jillian D’Onfro at jdonfro@sfstandard.com.
It’s no secret San Francisco has a poop problem. The prevalence of human waste on sidewalks, exacerbated by a shortage of public toilets that don’t cost $1 million, has made the city something of a punchline. Less well known is that, after more than two decades of closure in the wake of the 9/11 attacks, BART began reopening its restrooms several years ago, giving would-be street poopers another place to do their doo-doo.
At six of these underground restrooms, BART is working with contractor District Works to maintain order, deploying attendants to stand guard at the restrooms’ entrances. Like Walmart greeters of yore, they say hello, make small talk, and politely enforce the rules.
Practically speaking, that means a rap on the door if a guest has stayed inside for more than five minutes, or preventing people from entering the bathroom together for a subway-stall soiree.
During her nearly two years as a BART bathroom attendant, primarily at Powell Street station, Yessennia Rubio has been dissed, disparaged, and dismissed. She has witnessed, frozen in horror, as people had seizures while being treated for a drug overdose.
But interactions with frequent flyers are a nice part of the gig, she said. There’s Maria, a nurse’s aide who likes to share Bible verses, and Rosie, who cleans up at the restroom before spending the night riding buses through San Francisco.
“Some people just want to talk. Sometimes they just need someone to listen to them,” Rubio said. “I’m just there as that comfort blanket, you could say, providing radical hospitality.”
One might suppose her job to be gross, but attendants don’t clean the toilets. Instead, a separate janitorial staff performs maintenance roughly once an hour. Rubio and her fellow attendants can call for off-schedule emergency cleaning if someone leaves a mess.
Powell Street station attendant Edilberto Quyo said he’s seen clients try to flush socks or shorts down the toilet, leading to overflows. “You have to deal with all different kinds of people,” he said. “Sometimes you have to be extra careful about what you say.”
Powell Street has the busiest bathroom in the BART system, with an estimated 22,479 users in September and 195 calls to cleaning staff. The restrooms’ regular clientele includes tourists getting ready to queue for the cable car, commuters preparing for a long trek back to the East Bay, and unhoused folks seeking a private place to go.
More often than not, Quyo will be ignored by glassy-eyed travelers, but he has also been complimented on his warm smile or “nice aura.”
Manning the restrooms is, overall, an easy, well-paid gig. Most people abide by the guidelines that BART has issued for the bathrooms, including not to wash clothing or leave items behind.
Quyo said he likes not having to deal with exhausting hours or physical labor, like he did as a Tesla factory worker. Rubio, meanwhile, said she feels safer as a BART bathroom attendant than she did as a driver for a cannabis company, where she once got held at gunpoint.
The hardest rule to get people to follow?
“Please respect the attendants at all times,” Quyo said with a chuckle, pointing to the posted rules. “We don’t get much respect around here.”