Jump to content
Latest Issue of Aquarium World Magazine.

For the Ladies

Julie

By Julie
in The Off Topic Fishroom

 Share

Recommended Posts

Julie Newbie

Julie

Posted
Posted

ONLY A WOMAN WOULD UNDERSTAND:

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 topples 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!

This HAD to be written by a woman! No one

else could describe it so accurately!

Send this to all women that need a good

laugh AND, don't forget to have a mammogram!!!!!!

It could save your life!

A Friend Is Like A Good Bra...

Hard to Find

Supportive

Comfortable

Always Lifts You Up

Never Lets You Down or Leaves You Hanging

And Is Always Close To Your Heart!!!

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

Loading...
×
 Share
Go to topic listing
×
×
  • Create New...