Rapunzel is too shy to post this, but I'm not! 

Now who can't relate to this?


This is a must read...if you are a man, it will give you compassion for women. If you are a woman reading this, the visual will make you howl.

My mother was a fanatic about public bathrooms. When I was a little  girl, she'd take me into the stall, teach me to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then, she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat.

Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet seat. Then she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat. By this time, I'd have wet own my leg and we'd have to go home to change my clothes. That was a long time ago. Even now, in my more "mature" years, "The Stance" is excruciatingly  difficult to maintain, especially when one's bladder is full.

When you have to "go" in a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women that makes you think there's a half-price sale on Nelly's underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, who are also crossing their legs and smiling politely. You get closer and check for feet under the stall doors. Every one 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 dispenser for the new fangled "seat covers"  (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is dandy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook if there was one but there isn't -- so you  carefully but quickly hang it around your neck (since Mom would not approve if you put it on the FLOOR)! yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."

Ahhhh, relief. More relief.

But then your thighs 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" as your thighs experience a quake that would register
an eight on the Richter scale. To take your mind off of 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 would have 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, and sliding down, directly onto the insidious toilet seat. 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 ashamed of you if she knew, because you're certain that 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, sending up a stream of water akin to a fountain that suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the  toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged off to China. At that point, you give up.

You're soaked by the splashing water. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket, 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 a line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and, at this  point, no longer able to smile politely.

One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the Mississippi River! (Where was it 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 since entered, used and exited the men's restroom and read a copy of War and Peace while  waiting for you.

Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"

This is dedicated to women everywhere who have ever had to 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 woman can hold the door and hand you Kleenex under the door.

  ~Author Unknown~

Kudos for the mention of the missing hook on the door. Oftentimes I end up spending half of my bathroom time trying to hang my purse/tote on the latch itself! 

....... and men wonder why women go to the "restroom" in groups!  It's for survival!!

That is soooo funny!! YOu can always count on a couple
of things in the ladies room WITHOUT FAIL
Either:
1.  No toilet paper
2.  No paper towels
3.  The hand dryer doesn't work.
4.  The latch on the stall door doesn't work or there
     is no door.
5.  Toilet doesn't flush or is backed up.

It's always one of these, it seems.

And the lovely aroma! Their air fresheners never get rid of it.. instead they only add to it, to make a stinky flowery weird c.ocktail for the nose. EEEEEEEEEK!

Quote:


You won't find me taking that bet.  Just cleaning my bathroom with 2 men/boys in the house - they have no concept of aim.  They have it easier because the couldn't deal with it being more complicated.
 ::: flees:::

I'm the only female in 3 man/boy house(hubby and 2 sons) and I know what you mean about cleaning the
toilet and aim, Bikerbraid!

My turn to rant.  Just came back from giving a presentation that was held at a NICE hotel.  I went into the ladies room, which was lavishly decorated (one step from having an attendant).  So I go into the only stall available, and turn to latch the door.  IT WON"T LATCH!!  The slider does not line up with other side.  It will NEVER LATCH!  I exit the stall, to wait for another.  A woman leaves her stall, grumbling something.  I go into that stall and IT'S THE SAME WAY!  I manage to hold the door shut and take care of "business".  I then over hear others complaining of the same problem.  This entire restroom (8 stalls), had every latch installed so they would not work.  I was tempted to look for hidden cameras.  Instead I went to the hotel management to complain. 

WHAT IDIOT INSTALLS A DOOR WITHOUT CHECKING THAT IT WORKS?????*

end of rant.  You may now resume regular posting.