Posted on 06/29/2006 11:45:23 PM PDT by sully777
Hi Maximus...its Friday now, how are you?
Hey there!!
It's Friday now.
I can celebrate!!
How are you?
Good, but REALLY hot. Just got home a bit ago and its 94 in my office right now, was 84 downstairs and 92 in my kiddo's room.
Went to Disneyland agian...lol on Tuesday. Thought of you. :-)
Checking in with intent to be silly.
Yeeeee! Friday!
Cool!!! I saw on Leno last night the POTC II movie premier they had at The Mouse House. What day was that on? Did you get to see it?
This is just for you ladies!
I have always wondered why women always go in pairs and took so long other than having to stand in line. My mother was a fanatic about public restrooms. When I was a little girl, she'd take me into the stall, show me how to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet s eat. Then she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without
actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat.
That was a long time ago. Now, in my "mature" years, "The Stance" is excruciatingly difficult to maintain. 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 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 were 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 mu scles 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 thighs0 shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes open your stall door 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 that somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At that 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 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 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 restroom (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 question 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.
I did not even venture over to the Pirates ride, becasue I was warned that the line was at least 3 hours long. Did not see the movie premier.
You didn't even exaggerate the public restrooms story!
The other thing that plagues me in public restrooms is the handicapped stall toilet.
I'm short and that toilet isn't, so the angle of the stance is... er.... interesting.
:-)
LOL!
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.