RESTROOMS

          *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
          KNOWNthere 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 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
          KNOWwhat 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 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!
          *
          *This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could
          describe it so accurately!
          *