Why it takes so long to use the lady's wash room

Discussion in 'The Coffee House' started by neverdie, Oct 14, 2007.

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  1. neverdie

    neverdie Guest

    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 - as 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 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!


    :rofl: :rofl:
     
  2. Marshmallow

    Marshmallow Staff Alumni

    lol i likes that a lot!!!
     
  3. *dilligaf*

    *dilligaf* Staff Alumni

  4. Terry

    Terry Antiquities Friend Staff Alumni

    OMG someone was watching me last time I was in a public loo :eek:hmy:
     
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