Why it takes so long in the ladies room....

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) so 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 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 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!