Kai and Nina's Accessibly Hip Date

We started our date at the Jonah Shimmel Knish Bakery on Houston, since it is, according to the sign, famous, and has a picture of Woody Allen with the owner in the window. Unfortunately, there are two steps to enter the bakery, both over 1/8”, so the Knish Bakery was out. Then we moved on to check out the sangria menu at Macondo, but literally all the seats there are unmovable stools with high counters and tables. We did, however, spot an accessible park with a long sloping ramp and lots of space to watch people play basketball. We decided to get bagel sandwiches from Russ & Daughters to eat in the park. However, there isn’t enough space to get through the doors in a wheelchair, let alone between the two counters among a dozen other people.

We gave up on these restaurants and went to the Whole Foods on Bowery and Houston, which had wide automatic doors and no steps. The aisles were large and wide, and there are two separate elevators in the store to access the dining area upstairs. We even spotted a wheelchair under the stairs near the check out, in case you forgot yours. We measured the width of the doors to the dining area on the second floor—they were 32” and compliant with ADA standards. The only problem we encountered was at the Kombucha bar—which was way too high to be accessible from a wheelchair. However, the salad and prepared food bars were 34” inches tall—also ADA compliant. The chairs could be removed from the tables in the dining area, so they could make space for a wheelchair anywhere. The handicap stall in the bathroom was large and had two bars behind and next to the toilet. We inquired at customer service how Whole Foods accommodates people in wheelchairs. The dreadlocked employee enthusiastically explained what we’d already seen as well as explaining that the store provides staff to help those in wheelchairs reach items on higher shelves.

On our way back down Houston Street, we did some curb cut comparison. One curb cut had too high of a bump (over 1/8”) to be comfortable, and another was a trash filled puddle. However, we did spot one very wide and smooth curb cut.

We then decided to double up on our entertainment and private time and chose the most obscure film playing at Sunshine Cinema. We picked the film we thought would be emptiest so we could be the most alone. We found Sunshine Cinema to be really accessible—except for the first set of doors. They were very heavy and didn’t have any automatic buttons. All the theaters are on upper floors, but there was an elevator. We asked an employee inside if the theater was accessible before buying tickets—he was kind of nervous but pretty helpful. We were expecting to find maybe one row in the theater with missing seats to accommodate a wheelchair, but instead we found an entire back row dedicated to accessible seating, including seats for companions of people in wheelchairs. However, all of these seats were in the back, since there were no ramps within the theater itself. It might’ve been nice to be able to choose exactly where we wanted to sit, instead of being relegated to the back. However, it was advantageous for increased privacy.

We thought we might end our date elsewhere, but attempts to get on the F train failed, since the 2^nd avenue stop is completely wheelchair inaccessible (as is the Essex and Delancey J train). So we got a second wind and decided to go shopping at American Apparel for some new hipster duds. Unfortunately, there was a ledge that would prevent a wheelchair from entering. When we asked at the register if/how the store would be accessible to someone in a wheelchair, the girl had no idea and didn’t really seem to care. She didn’t offer to find out for us. On our way out, we spotted their mission statement posted in the doorway. Ironic that American Apparel bills itself as having a company “culture” that “includes a passion for progressive, creative, and open-minded thinking.”

We wanted some gelato from the fancy gelato place near Avenue A, but the store was cash only. The nearby ATM was way too high to be accessible from a wheelchair. On top of that, the counters at the gelato place were far too high—and they don’t have a menu. The only way to see available flavors is to peer into the freezers/counters, which are a lot taller than 34”. Failing that, we decided to go get wasted at The Library Bar. Knowing that all nearby subway stations were only accessible by stairs, we had to call for a wheelchair accessible cab, since we didn’t think the chances were great for catching one on the street.

Overall we found ways to make our date work—but were disappointed that many of the small independent businesses (with the exception of American Apparel) on Houston were unable to accommodate a wheelchair. Whole Foods is a fine place to eat, but maybe not the most ideal for a romantic date. This particular stretch of the Lower East Side/East Village has plenty of interesting stuff to do, but unfortunately, between the inaccessible subway stations and small business with stoops, is pretty difficult to fully explore in a wheelchair.