PHILADELPHIA — The reportedly “chill” establishment known as the 9th Street Tavern in the Bella Vista neighborhood of Center City is now allowing patrons to put paper towels in the toilet, elated sources report.
“It’s just way more convenient than throwing it out in the garbage receptacle six feet away. We get those restroom hardships around here,” said Scott Falcone, who’s owned the bar and grill since 2005. “I realized I don’t want to be ‘that restaurant guy’ who tells his customers what they can and cannot put down the latrine. I want my patrons to feel at home where they can feel free to stuff pretty much anything they want down there, like disposable towels, clumps of hair, and bags of cocaine when the cops are outside their door. Since then business has been on the uptick. Bon Appetit magazine has even deemed us the ‘the best restroom experience in Philly.’”
Customers old and new have flocked to this mainstay, some just to use the bathroom.
“You can’t imagine how thrilled we are about this. It’s so hard to find a place downtown where you can just be yourself, undo a belt loop, and, you know, ram some ‘quicker picker upper’ down the toilet. All my old haunts were starting to tighten up citing ‘blockages’ and ‘outrageously expensive repairs,” said Duke Conti, an on-again-off-again patron of the restaurant. “Scott at 9th Street? He understands. It’s two fifteen in the morning, I’m five Hurricanes in, and normal toilet paper just won’t cut it. Scott’s the only dude in this city that understands that.”
“Inquirer” food critic Craig Laban suggested that the “paper towel fad” might be wearing thin.
“I heard the 9th Street Tavern has plumbers on-call 24/7 because of their controversial paper towel policy. That’s a lot just to make yourself attract customers,” said Laban. “I mean, they really should’ve just focused on the quality dining options instead of toilet needs. And [Falcone] won’t admit this, it seems the patrons are coming in exclusively to relieve themselves before sauntering off to somewhere with better food. Lines for the restroom are frequently out the door. I give this place a week before the entire plumbing infrastructure completely collapses. That’s exactly what happened to all Beefsteak Charlie’s restaurants.”
At press time, Falcone was seen changing the letters on the marquee to announce that 9th Street would now let its customers vape near children.
Alright, he was a paranoid schizophrenic with a long history of brutal violence, this one probably isn’t on Loomis. Still, it’s perplexing that the doctor recommended driving lessons as part of Simm’s treatment. Pretty much as soon as he learned what the gas pedal did he was gone.
Cain had come to Loomis seeking advice to quit smoking, but the doctor became immediately convinced that he was pure evil. He told Cain this repeatedly, but for reasons unknown Cain kept seeing him. Eventually, in the throes of nicotine withdrawal, Cain internalized this message and murdered three of his coworkers.
Tristen sought Loomis’s advice in navigating communication issues she was having with her husband. The good doctor’s diagnosis? Pure evil. Time and time again Loomis’s go-to move is telling a patient they have the blackest eyes, the Devil’s eyes, and accusing them of being inhuman. In this instance, it turned a suburban housewife with no history of violence or wrongdoing into a jogger-strangling monster.
“Tell me about your mother. Was she also pure evil?” Jesus dude, change up your approach.
In one of his all-time greatest blunders, Loomis meant to write Lorenzo a prescription for Xanax that he could take on airplanes but got his notes mixed up and wound up prescribing pure evil.
Yes, late-night host Bill Maher is a patient of Dr. Loomis and has killed 7 people. How have we not canceled this guy?
During the routine transfer of murderer Henry Parsons, Loomis was twirling around his therapist gun and singing a little song to the tune of “The Muffin Man.” It went like this:
In his first session with Tommy, then a teen caught doing graffiti, Loomis called Tommy pure evil. Tommy replied “No I’m not,” and Loomis replied, “Oh, what’s the matter, chicken?!”
When Loomis insisted that McCray’s recurring dream about falling wouldn’t stop until his inherent evil was satiated, McCray took matters into his own hands in an incident now known as the Carlsville pitchfork slaughter.
Loraine was a violent psychotic under Dr. Loomis’s care who was set free when Loomis accidentally texted “FREEBACON” to a Smith’s Grove guard. Apparently, this was a promo code for a meal delivery service sent by mistake. How is this man still a doctor?
Samantha and Cindy Gursch were sent to Loomis’s office to test for ADD. The first thing he asked them was “Are you two regular twins, or creepy evil murder twins?” That planted a seed that led to the deaths of 16 people in foster homes across the United States in the ‘90s.
Yes, this patient had his name legally changed to “Evil.” He walked right into Loomis’s office and said “I am pure evil, I have the devil’s eyes, and I thirst for blood.” Loomis dismissed Evil as an attention seeker, saying “Get back to me when you’ve got some blood on your hands.” Maybe he was, but Jesus man, you shouldn’t call a bluff like that!
In an ill-advised foray into immersion therapy, Loomis escorted an unrestrained serial killer to a crowded fair, put a knife in her hand, and said “Don’t do anything.” She did stuff.
Gissimons wanted to lose weight, so Loomis made him a subliminal meditation tape to play while he slept. “You are in control of your eating habits. Cheese and cream sauces have no power over you. You are inhuman. Pure evil.”
When Webber approached Loomis requesting his antipsychotic medication be renewed, Loomis replied “I don’t negotiate with evil.”