By Chris Kornelis

When James Williams wanted to get into sales, an industry veteran named Tommy Monette was his guide. Monette got him his first job. He accompanied him on sales calls. And perhaps most importantly, he taught Williams the importance of knowing where to go.

"He was my toilet mentor," said Williams, who travels the country selling footwear, apparel and other products.

Williams is part of an army of traveling salespeople who have spent large chunks of their lives on the road. It's a grueling job full of rejection. People who survive and thrive say that maintaining sanity and longevity depends partly on having ready access to quality restrooms.

They are forever on the hunt for remote outposts that are kept clean, boast ample hooks for jackets and bags and have stall doors that go all the way to the floor. Because there's no Tripadvisor for toilets, salespeople create their own referral networks. They text each other about restrooms in high-end hotel lobbies that don't have locks. When they see each other at events they talk about truck stops with facilities that sparkle.

That's what happened at a recent golf-industry trade show where a chat between colleagues quickly devolved into a two-hour discussion about the fine art of finding a toilet. Not surprisingly, at the center of this conversation was Monette. Now director of sales at shorts brand Chubbies, the 46-year-old spends less time on the road but still dishes out restroom wisdom when he can.

Monette and his colleague, Colin Hunter, steered the conversation to trade shows, which present their own challenges. The men disagreed over which facilities at the Orange County Convention Center in Orlando, Fla., would be overrun when the show kicked into high gear. What they didn't dispute was the importance of casing out the venue in advance, particularly in a foreign environment where your body rhythms are off.

"You don't know when you're suddenly going to need it and you don't want to have to think about where you're going," Hunter says.

The general public knows facilities at gas stations and fast-food restaurants are spotty. But for traveling salespeople, the stakes are higher. They sometimes drive for hours between appointments and don't want the first words out of their mouths to be: "Can I use your bathroom?" They also don't want to leave a bad impression on the way out.

That's why Williams likes to hit a resort before appointments. One of his favorite stops is the Montage Deer Valley in Park City, Utah, which provides a complimentary valet if you're dining at one of their restaurants -- or appear to be.

Williams says visiting a high-end spot with a valet boosts your confidence before going in for the sale.

"You're living large," he says. "You're ready to go."

Of course, there's a glaring difference between a gas station bathroom and one at a fancy resort: Only one is open to the public, at least as long as you buy a slushie or a Slim Jim.

Veterans of the practice say getting stopped is exceedingly rare, even at high-end establishments. Williams says if you act like you belong, the staff will welcome you.

"I just walk in and just go straight for where I'm going," he says. "I think if you don't look suspicious, you probably won't get questions."

Traveling salespeople say finding swanky facilities is only part of the job. Maintaining high road-bathroom standards often calls for an ability to hold it.

When Ellery Srofe was pregnant with her daughter, an ultrasound technician noticed something curious during an appointment.

"What do you do for a living?" she asked. "Your bladder is huge."

Srofe has spent the past decade as an independent sales rep selling everything from snowboards to sunglasses across Oregon, Washington, Idaho and Montana.

Srofe says she's creeped out by the advertisements in rest area stalls for what to do if you're the victim of human trafficking. So, she is more than willing to hold it until she gets to one of her go-tos.

Early in her career, veterans directed her to 50,000 Silver Dollar, a massive outpost off I-90 in Montana that is prized not just for its clean bathrooms but casinos, bars, a hotel and a top-flight gift shop.

She later diversified her portfolio, which now includes the St. Regis Travel Center in St. Regis, Mont., where she can also pick up a Pickle-In-a-Pouch, or the Miracle Hot Springs outside Twin Falls, Idaho, where she might also take a quick dip.

Mike French, an independent sales rep who sells Red Wing shoes between Texas and Montana, prefers hospitals and hotels, places with nice facilities and low traffic. In Boulder, Colo., he frequents the St Julien Hotel & Spa, where he's drawn to the lobby bathroom's abundance of marble and tile, the heavy wooden stall doors and cloth hand towels.

In recent years, French has also added Kohl's to his list of safe spaces. The retailer keeps its facilities clean and, since there are usually more employees than customers, there's not much competition.

Bathroom strategies, like sales techniques, vary widely from rep to rep. Monette detests Starbucks bathrooms because they get so much use. Blake McCune, on the other hand, puts Starbucks at the very top.

McCune, an independent sales rep whose clients include skateboard brands and shoes, puts a premium on the coffee chain's large, private facilities, which he says are perfect if you need to work in a quick sink shower before an appointment.

"If the bathroom key is connected to a giant spoon or piece of wood," he says, "those are the places you want to avoid."

Write to Chris Kornelis at chris.kornelis@wsj.com

(END) Dow Jones Newswires

May 28, 2025 05:30 ET (09:30 GMT)

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