Geri Posted May 5, 2006 Share Posted May 5, 2006 My mother was a fanatic about public restrooms. When I was a little girl, she'd take me into the stall, show me how to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet seat. Then she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat. That was a long time ago. Now, in my "mature" years, "The Stance" is excruciatingly difficult to maintain. 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 dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there were one, but there isn't - so you carefully but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom 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. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes open your stall door 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 firehose that somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At that 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 inconspicuously 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 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 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 restroom (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 question 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. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Linda661 Posted May 5, 2006 Share Posted May 5, 2006 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ann Posted May 5, 2006 Share Posted May 5, 2006 Love it!!!! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Frank Lamb Posted May 5, 2006 Share Posted May 5, 2006 Never realized how tough it could be.Imagine how difficult it is to sit and poop under all the same problems minus a purse with extra body parts dangling dangerously close (if not in) to the junk in the bowl.?? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Debi Posted May 5, 2006 Share Posted May 5, 2006 Geri!!! Ummm and Frank, thanks for that visual. I want to say sooooo much more but I'm trying to behave... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MsC1210 Posted May 6, 2006 Share Posted May 6, 2006 lol.. well I needed a laugh and I certainly got one.. well a few actually, and thanks!! Hugs Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
CharlieD Posted May 6, 2006 Share Posted May 6, 2006 You're bragging, Frank!! Maybe wishful thinking even. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Geri Posted May 6, 2006 Author Share Posted May 6, 2006 Oh Frank, Frank, Frank, I must admit that your "occasional" sit with the dangly problem seems be greatly overshadowed by the "always" issue for us ladies. Anyway we'll have to ask your lovely wife if Charlie is right..........is it wishful thinking????? I shall think of you every time I struggle with my purse and the door lock! Geri Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
cindi o'h Posted May 13, 2006 Share Posted May 13, 2006 Frank, While you are poopin', Tuck your dangly under your arm then you won't have to worry about getting the poor thing cold or wet. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Frank Lamb Posted May 14, 2006 Share Posted May 14, 2006 At my age and in my condition it usually is wishful thinking.However sometimes (usually at Wal-Mart)the water in those darn things seems cold and deep. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
cindi o'h Posted November 22, 2006 Share Posted November 22, 2006 seems to be an obsession..... Gotta love that FRANK LAMB! Cindi o'h Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Larry Posted November 23, 2006 Share Posted November 23, 2006 Thank GOD Frank you were able to describe our manly problem so well..... Larry Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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