A Visit To The Ladies Room

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 forfeet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opensand you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get into find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so longyou are about to wet your pants!The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, nodoubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, ifthere were one, but there isn't - so you carefully but quickly drape it aroundyour 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'dlove to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or laytoilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discoverto be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear yourmother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you wouldhave KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the >onethat's still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in thepuffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work. The doorhits 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, andslide 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 hasmade contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seatbecause YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if youhad 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 confusedthat it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a firehose against theinside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt andruns down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everythingdown with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser forfear of being dragged in too. At that point, you give up.You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You'reexhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and >then slinkout inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate thefaucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a drypaper towel and walk past the line of women, still waiting. You are no longerable to smile politely to them.A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet papertrailing from your shoe. ( Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank thepaper 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 leftthe men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why isyour 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 whatreally does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questionabout why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can holdthe door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!!

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