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Women everywhere will identify with this at some stage...
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 wont lock. It doesn't 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 isn't 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 hadn't 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 it's 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 that's 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 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 that used 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 upwards, 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 firehose 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
dishevelled 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?"
That's when you do unimaginable things to him in your head.
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...
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