--- halito-- this women understand ,empty tissue container...In funny-
[EMAIL PROTECTED], Chatty <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
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> 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!
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> 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."
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> 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.
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> 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.
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> 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.
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> 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.
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> 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."
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> 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 a gainst 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 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 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 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!!
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