Saturday, July 29, 2006

I need to go to the bathroom!

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 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 firehose
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 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!!

1 comment:

jbj said...

Oh, Becky, you just have to know how hard I laughed at this post. I was literally laughing so hard, tears were streaming down my face and I could no longer see the screen to read. Joel heard me going on and on and came in to see what I was laughing at but of course it wasn't funny to him. Why would it be, he's a man! You have inspired me to write a post about the bathroom experience here. Maybe not as funny - you have a nack for that but I'll enjoy sharing it! Thanks for the laugh I needed today. Oh, to have a toilet to even squat over!