Lookit: we all know what the inside of an Indigo looks like. There are shelves and shelves with cutesy callouts like "What's Hot" and "Staff Picks" and other scammy headers to make some books seem like Superbooks. They're not. Who cares. What I'm here to do is spill a secret of epic proportions. Why? Because, dear reader, I love you.
The Eaton Centre washrooms are generally very slum-like (without all the colourful whimsy of that Danny Boyle movie) and I like to avoid them at all costs. But the well-hidden Indigo loo is a serene, rarely-used lavatory oasis in the heart of this sometimes-cruel shopping centre. And a Dyson hand dryer? Just... wow.
I'm not going to draw you a fucking map, because I don't need every Tom, Dick and Harry destroying my personal sanctuary in the mall. But if you can find it: enjoy. Don't say I never did anything nice for you guys.
Obligatory Title Pun: It's the perfect place to (indi)GO.
Menu Readability: ENN. Eh?
Need to mention: There's a Starbucks in here as well.
What this place teaches me about myself: I'm a swell guy, sometimes.