For Ladies Only … read at your own risk if you aren’t. My mom sent me this email today and I thought it was so funny, and I needed a good laugh! I think I will have to print it up for Aunt Dot!
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 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 i n 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 we ll
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!
This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it
so accurately!
Comments:
Stacie said…
This is so true! We stopped in Downey at the gas station to use the bathroom! Kate Handed me one of her toilet seat covers bacause mine was out! Bless her little heart! It was crazy! It flushes before you get your pants up and gives you a good splash! Yuck! Thanks for the humor!
Thursday, April 10, 2008 11:26:32 AM
jana said…
I think we have all been in that same situation at least once in our lives!! Throw in a couple kids that you are trying to keep off the filthy floor or trying to expose you before your ready to exit while doing the rest mentioned above and you have had a work out that counts as your exercise routine for the rest of the week at least! I once went to a restroom in the mall in Ogden and a lady ran in before me she had to go a lot worse than me her daughter that was with her kept saying you “really did have to go you are stinky mom…wow” over and over I felt really bad for her.
Thursday, April 10, 2008 2:09:17 PM
Mzb said…
This is my experience except I was in an airplane holding a 3 month old baby/purse while my five year old sat alone. It was very interesting!
Thursday, April 10, 2008 6:40:55 PM
Anne said…
That is funny! I’ve had some of those moments. Thanks for the daily humor fix!
Friday, April 11, 2008 8:23:35 AM
