survivormom's Blog

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 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.



(Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up
trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would 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 w ith 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 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 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 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 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!