Why Ladies Go to the Restroom in Pairs, Explained (Warning: mildly descriptive)
Posted: Saturday, February 14, 2009
by Avis Ward
GeoVi's Home for Pregnant Teens
Ben Morrish's article prompted me to submit this one. It's the old adage, if you guys think you have it bad, listen to what we go through! Equally, for men and women, some public restrooms can leave much to be desired but it's best to have them.
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, (Mother 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 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 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 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!
Avis Ward of AWC, LLC
Note: Credit can not be taken for writing this as it was received from a senior friend via email. If you are the author to this, I'd love to give you full credit and shake your hand. (Only after I've witnessed you wash your hands with soap and water, of course.)
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Top-level comments on this article: (5 total)Avis, thank you so much for the laugh!!! Oh my!!!! I have never seen this on the email curcuit. Thanks for sharing. To quote my mom as she would say in this situation, "O Lord, have mercy!"Teresa, I was hysterical with laughter while reading this. My friend Dot, from Prime-Timers at church, sent this to me. She invites me to their functions. I love attending 'cause I'm usually the youngest one present! They fuss over me. *laffin'*
Glad to have given you a laugh. Thanks so much for reading this. My mother would have said the same thing, "O Lord, have mercy" while laughing hysterically, too.
Thou 'art' wonderful! *beaming smile* Glad you had time with your Art today!
Avis,You had me laughing so hard, I had to get up and grab a 'tissue' to wipe the tears from my eyes -- luckily, they were close by.Oh, how true, how true.Thank you for sharing that!NancyNancy, thank you. It makes me happy to know you got a good laugh from this. I wish I could have heard and seen you. I enjoy the sound of laughter. When we laugh, we lose our inhibitions and free ourselves. It's all good. *warm smile*
And yes about this piece, "how true, how true!"
Avis~ I'm with Nancy on this one...I am laughing my butt off as I type (which is causing tons of typos...which I must continue to correct as I attempt to shower you with praise.) Hysterically funny...and a great way to give the men a glimpse of what it's like to be 'us'. You, my Dear, are one gem of a writer. Thank you SO much for this piece. Hugs, blessings and loads more giggles!CamilleCamille, I'm laughing my butt off too as I type this because I can get a visual of you laughing yours off. I love to make people laugh. I am not a self-proclaimed comedian but I have my moments.
I'd love to take credit for this but only did a bit of editing and interjecting my personality into it. Thanks for reading and many more giggles and laughs your way today and the days to come. You are a delight! And I mean that!!
Hi Avis.Thanks for sharing this. All the men out there should read it. How true it all is. I love the last paragraph.Hugs,DianneHi Dianne,
Thanks for reading and leaving a comment. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Yeppers, this should be required reading for all men!
Hope you're having a very good day!
Hugs back,
Avis
Heheheh, great article!So women operate in 2-person teams? There's no such co-operation in the men's room - just testosterone-driven grunting competitions, alas!Yeah, this gives new meaning to the Women's Suffrage Movement, you must admit, eh? *grinning* Thanks for reading and posting, Ben. I gotta feel sorry for you guys, too. Tag-teaming in the loo just isn't your thing. No puns intended whatsover. *sheepish grin*
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