Jump to content

You gotta love this. We women have been through this....


Recommended Posts


> Subject: Public "Restrooms"


> 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. 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 Mom, 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, (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, 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 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 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!

Maryanne :wink:





Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Restore formatting

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.