When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, soyou smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check forfeet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied.Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving thecubicle. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn'tmatter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!
The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mum, nodoubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook, ifthere was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck,(Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!) down withyour pants and assume ' The Stance.In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake. You'dlove to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to laytoilet paper on it, you hold 'The Stance.'
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what youdiscover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Dear, if you hadtried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWNthere 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 bag (the bag around your neck, that now you have tohold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would haveto do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smallerthan your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of yourchest and you and your bag 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, while losing your footingaltogether and sliding 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 formon the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not thatthere was any, You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, becauseyou're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seatbecause, 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 soconfused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hoseagainst the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water thatcovers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes.The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab onto theempty 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 wettoilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a sweet wrapper youfound in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, soyou wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the lineof women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very endof 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 herwarmly, 'Here, you just might need this.
As you exit, you spot your hubby/boyfriend, who has long since entered, used and leftthe men's toilet. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long and why is yourbag hanging around your neck?
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with any public restrooms/toilets (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains tothe men what really does take us so long. It also answers that othercommonly asked question about why women go to the toilets in pairs. It'sso the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your bag and hand you Kleenex under the door.