Womens Woes

passiton@blogfreehere.com — Sat, 26 Jan 2008 00:10:57 +1100

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 conspicuously
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!

Send this to all women that need a good laugh AND,
don't forget to have a mammogram!!!!!! It could save
your life!

Life Experiences

Womens Woes