When you need to visit a public loo there is invariably a line of women
waiting, you smile politely and take your place in the line, it finally
gets to your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors.
Every cubicle is occupied.
But eventually a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the
woman leaving the cubicle.
You get in to find the door won¹t lock. It doesn¹t matter, the wait has
been so long and you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the
modern 'seat covers' is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the
door hook if there was one, but there isn¹t * so you carefully, but
quickly drape it around your neck, yank down your pants and assume 'the
position'.
In this position your ageing, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You
would love to sit down, but you certainly hadn¹t taken time to wipe the
seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold 'the position'.
To take your mind off your trembling thighs for a moment you reach for the
toilet paper dispenser and your worst nightmare it¹s empty, the toilet
roll dispenser is empty.. You hover looking around in the hope there's a
new roll behind you * no such luck. Your thighs start to shake more.
Then you remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday *
the one that¹s still in your handbag, which is now burning your neck &
shoulders with the weight. So you contort your arm into a very unnatural
position and start to fumble around in the deep dark depths of your
handbag for that small crumpled used tissue no bigger than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door cubicle door and because the latch doesn't work
the door hits your head, which is bent forward from you holding your bag
around your neck while you are rummaging for thatused tissue, the door
takes you by surprise and you start to lose your balance and topple
backwards. 'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach to push the door shut and
drop the precious, tiny, crumpled tissue you had only just managed to
retrieve with your index finger into an 'unknown' puddle on the floor.
If that isn't enough you lose your balance altogether, or just give up
and... sit down ... directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
Yes - it's wet! You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late.
Your thighs and bottom have made contact with every imaginable germ & life
form that lives on the uncovered seat.
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so
confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of cold water like a fire
hose into the bowl which causes a spray of fine mist that completely
covers your bum and runs downs your legs along with all the various life
forms and down into your disheveled pants which have now dropped to your
ankles with your hems soaking up that puddle from the floor.
The flush seems to suck 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 your self with a
piece of gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out
inconspicuously to the sinks.
You cannot figure out how to operate the tap, so run your hands underneath
it grateful for the two drops of water there and around the basin itself.
You go to the towel dispenser past the line of women still waiting, where
of course there are no paper towels so you more onto the hand blower,
which yes you've guessed it that doesn't work either!
You're no longer able to smile politely to the women, but there's an
unspoken understanding between you all.
A kind soul at the very end of the line of women points out that you have
a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. Where was that when you
NEEDED IT??? You yank the paper from your shoe, plonk 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. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long, and why is your
handbag hanging around your neck?'
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with public loos. It also
helps explain to the men why it really does take us women so long and it
also answers that commonly asked question * Why do women always go to the
loos in pairs?
It's so your friend can hold the door, hang onto your bag and pass you
tissue under the door!
waiting, you smile politely and take your place in the line, it finally
gets to your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors.
Every cubicle is occupied.
But eventually a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the
woman leaving the cubicle.
You get in to find the door won¹t lock. It doesn¹t matter, the wait has
been so long and you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the
modern 'seat covers' is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the
door hook if there was one, but there isn¹t * so you carefully, but
quickly drape it around your neck, yank down your pants and assume 'the
position'.
In this position your ageing, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You
would love to sit down, but you certainly hadn¹t taken time to wipe the
seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold 'the position'.
To take your mind off your trembling thighs for a moment you reach for the
toilet paper dispenser and your worst nightmare it¹s empty, the toilet
roll dispenser is empty.. You hover looking around in the hope there's a
new roll behind you * no such luck. Your thighs start to shake more.
Then you remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday *
the one that¹s still in your handbag, which is now burning your neck &
shoulders with the weight. So you contort your arm into a very unnatural
position and start to fumble around in the deep dark depths of your
handbag for that small crumpled used tissue no bigger than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door cubicle door and because the latch doesn't work
the door hits your head, which is bent forward from you holding your bag
around your neck while you are rummaging for thatused tissue, the door
takes you by surprise and you start to lose your balance and topple
backwards. 'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach to push the door shut and
drop the precious, tiny, crumpled tissue you had only just managed to
retrieve with your index finger into an 'unknown' puddle on the floor.
If that isn't enough you lose your balance altogether, or just give up
and... sit down ... directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
Yes - it's wet! You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late.
Your thighs and bottom have made contact with every imaginable germ & life
form that lives on the uncovered seat.
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so
confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of cold water like a fire
hose into the bowl which causes a spray of fine mist that completely
covers your bum and runs downs your legs along with all the various life
forms and down into your disheveled pants which have now dropped to your
ankles with your hems soaking up that puddle from the floor.
The flush seems to suck 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 your self with a
piece of gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out
inconspicuously to the sinks.
You cannot figure out how to operate the tap, so run your hands underneath
it grateful for the two drops of water there and around the basin itself.
You go to the towel dispenser past the line of women still waiting, where
of course there are no paper towels so you more onto the hand blower,
which yes you've guessed it that doesn't work either!
You're no longer able to smile politely to the women, but there's an
unspoken understanding between you all.
A kind soul at the very end of the line of women points out that you have
a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. Where was that when you
NEEDED IT??? You yank the paper from your shoe, plonk 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. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long, and why is your
handbag hanging around your neck?'
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with public loos. It also
helps explain to the men why it really does take us women so long and it
also answers that commonly asked question * Why do women always go to the
loos in pairs?
It's so your friend can hold the door, hang onto your bag and pass you
tissue under the door!
