Thread: Public Restrooms

Public Restrooms

My mother was a fanatic about public restrooms. When I was a little
girl, she'd take me into the stall, show me how to wad up toilet paper
and wipe the seat. Then she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to
cover the seat. Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, NEVER sit on a public
toilet seat.

Then she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over
the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your
flesh make contact with the toilet seat.

That was a long time ago. Now, in my "mature" years, "The Stance" is
excruciatingly difficult to maintain.

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 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 were 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. That would have to do. You crumple it
in
the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes open your stall door 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
that somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto
the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At that
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 faucet 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 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 restroom
(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 question 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.

omg it is so funny because it is TRUE!!

x

Originally Posted by melfi

omg it is so funny because it is TRUE!!

x

LOL Yep, my mum taught me the stance!

LOL, thats cute, but so true!!!

Thats so funny. My grandma always wipes the seat first and puts bits of toilet paper down

He he he, thats so funny and so true !!!!!

This is tooo funnie and way too true lol.

Boy does that ever ring true!! LOL...

Halerious LMAO!! I still do the stance!! Sam hope you dont mind me bringing this back out.... I jus had to share it so .

i never saw this one....no joke, these days after having alexa i can hardly do the STANCE lol

and the japanese toilets FORGET IT they are holes in the ground and 70 yr old women do it!