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ebsungirl · 02-05-2007, 05:59 PM

Ladies Room (For the Gals)

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 forfeet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a
door opens andyou dash in, near ly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.

You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the
wait has beenso long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the
modern "seatcovers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but
empty. You wouldhang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't
- so youcarefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn
over in hergrave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants and assume
"TheStance."

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake.
You'dlove to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the
seat or laytoilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you
discoverto be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear
yourmother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat,
you would haveKNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs
shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on
yesterday-the onethat's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck,
that now, youhave to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time).
That wouldhave to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible.
It's still smaller than your thumbnail.
< B R>Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The
door hitsyour purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your
chest, and youand your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" youscream, 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 boltup, knowing all too well that it's too late.

Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and
life form onthe uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper- not
that therewas any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your
mother would beutterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare
bottom nevertouched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just
don't KNOW whatkind of diseases you could get."

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so
confusedthat it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose
against theinside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers
your butt and runsdown your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks
everything downwith such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser
for fear ofbeing 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 slinkout 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 li neof women, still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely
to them. Akind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece
of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you
NEEDEDit??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's
hand and tellher 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 pursehanging 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 reallydoes take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked
questions aboutwhy women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can
hold thedoor, 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!

</B>

02-05-2007, 05:59 PM	#1 (permalink)
ebsungirl I love Derf!! Join Date: Dec 6 2005 Location: Northeast Posts: 5,035 Rep Power: 8	Has this happened to any of you?????? Ladies Room (For the Gals) 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 forfeet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied. Finally, a door opens andyou dash in, near ly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has beenso long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern "seatcovers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You wouldhang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so youcarefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in hergrave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants and assume "TheStance." In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'dlove to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or laytoilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance." To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discoverto be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear yourmother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would haveKNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday-the onethat's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, youhave to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That wouldhave to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail. < B R>Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hitsyour purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and youand your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" youscream, 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 boltup, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form onthe uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper- not that therewas any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would beutterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom nevertouched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW whatkind of diseases you could get." By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confusedthat it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against theinside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runsdown your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything downwith such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear ofbeing 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 slinkout 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 li neof women, still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them. Akind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDEDit??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tellher 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 pursehanging 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 reallydoes take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions aboutwhy women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold thedoor, 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! </B> __________________ Undercover Angel!