FOR ALL
THE MEN IN OUR
LIVES WHO
ASK,
"WHAT
TOOK YOU SO
LONG IN THE
RESTROOM?
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
(God I
should have gone to the gym!!!) thigh muscles begin to shake.
You'd love to sit
down, but you certainly hadn't taken time
to wipe the seator 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 will 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 e-x-h-a-u-s-t-e-d.
You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found
in
your pocketand 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!
A friend Is Like A Good
Bra... Hard to find...
Supportive....
Comfortable ...
Always Lifts You Up...
Never Lets You Down, or Leaves You Hanging,
And Is
Always Close To Your Heart!!!
| 
