Restrooms
This
is so funny and so
true!!
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 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, 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 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 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!
>
>
>
> This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so
> accurately!
restroom?
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