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Isn't this the truth ........ you may need to stop at
the
women's restroom ....... be prepared!
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually
find a line of women, so you smile politely and take
your
place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet
under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly
knocking
down the woman leaving the stall. You
get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't
matter, the wait has been so long
you are about
to wet your pants!
The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers'
(invented by someone's
Mum, no doubt)
is handy, but empty. You would hang
your
purse on the door hook, if there was one,
but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly
drape it around your
neck, (Mum would turn over
in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR! ), yank down
your pants, and
assume 'The Stance'.
In this position your aging, toneless
thigh muscles
begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you
certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay
toilet
paper on it, so you hold 'The Stance'.
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you
reach for what you discover
to be the empty toilet
paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your
mother's voice saying, 'Honey, if you had tried
to
clean the seat, you would have KNOWN
there was
no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your
nose
on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse.
(Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have
to
hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time).
That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest
way
possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch
doesn't
work. The door hits your purse, which is
hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and
you and your purse topple
backward against the tank
of the toilet. 'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach
for the door, dropping your precious,
tiny, crumpled
tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing
altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET
SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all
too
well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made
contact with every imaginable germ and life form on
the uncovered
seat because YOU never laid down
toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had
taken time to try. You
know that your mother would
be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're
certain her bare bottom never touched a
public toilet
seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don't KNOW
what kind of diseases you could get.'
By this
time, the automatic sensor on the back of the
toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a
stream of water like
a fire hose against the inside of
the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers
your butt and runs down your
legs and into your
shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down
with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet
paper
dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you
give up. You're soaked by the
spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're
exhausted. You try to wipe with
a gum wrapper you
found in your pocket and then slink out conspicuously
to the sinks.
You can't figure out how
to operate the faucets with
the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with
spit and a dry paper towel and walk past
the line of
women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A
kind soul at the very end
of the line points out a piece
of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that
when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your
shoe,
plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her
warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.'
As you exit, you spot your
hubby, who has long since
entered, used, and left the men's restroom.
Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long, and
why
is your purse hanging around your neck?'
This
is dedicated to women everywhere who deal
with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be
kidding!!).
It
finally explains to the men what really does take us
so long. It also answers their other commonly asked
questions
about why women go to the restroom in
pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang
onto your purse and hand
you Kleenex under the
door!
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