Ladies,we've all been there ! ...........................
When you have to visit a public loo there is invariably a line of
women, you
smile politely and take your place, it finally gets to your turn, you
check
for feet under the cubicle doors. Every one is occupied..... but
eventually
a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving
the
cubicle.
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 knickers! The dispenser for the
modern "seat covers" is handy, but empty. You would hang your handbag
on a
door hook, if there was one, but there isn't so you carefully, but
quickly
drape it around your neck, yank down your knickers, and assume "The
Position".
In this position your ageing, 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 Position." To take your mind
off
your trembling thighs for a moment you reach for - horror or horrors -
an
empty toilet paper dispenser. Your thighs start to shake more. You
remember
the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's
still
in your handbag which is now burning your neck & shoulders with the
weight.
So you contort your arm into a very unnatural position and start to
fumble
around in the deep dark depths of your handbag for that small crumpled
'used' tissue no bigger than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door and because the latch doesn't work it hits
your
head which is bent over from holding the hanging handbag, and you
start to
topple backward. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door and
drop
the precious, tiny, crumpled tissue you had only just retrieved with
your
index finger into an unknown puddle on the floor.......if that isn't
enough
you lose your balance altogether and gravity pulls you 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 & life
form
that lives on the uncovered seat. 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 into the bowl which sprays a fine mist of water
that
covers your bum and runs down your legs along with the various life
forms
and down into your dishevelled knickers which have now dropped down to
your
ankles. 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 yourself with a piece
of gum
wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out conspicuously to
the
sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the taps, so you run your
hands
underneath it grateful for the 2 drops there, then around the basin
itself.
You go to the towel dispenser past the line of women still waiting,
where of
course there are no paper towels so you move over to the hand blower,
which,
yes you've guessed it, also doesn't work. You are no longer able to
smile
politely to the women, but there is an unspoken understanding between
you
all.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you have a
piece of
toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED
it??).
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used,
and left
the Men's. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your
handbag
hanging around your neck?".
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with public loo's. It
also
finally explains to the men what really does take us so long and also
answers their other commonly asked question about why women go to the
loo in
pairs.
It's so the other one can hold the door, hang onto your handbag and
hand you
Kleenex under the door!