Just for the Ladies

Restroom Humor or "OMG, THAT Happened to ME!"

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 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 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!