Not about Bush

[kenny]

Never even got to wipe


(How do I make this link clickable?)

 

[mrssalvo]

Here's the clickable link

kenny to make a link clickable you have to click on the little world? smybol on the far right when you are making a post. a box will come up where you can enter the direct link or what name you want to call it like i just did "clickable link." then another box will pop up where you enter the http address.

 

[Regular Guy]

Kenny,

I''d say you''re hitting your prime; nice post!

 

[belle]

i just have to wonder what the rest of this story is...

 

[pricescope]

There are people who actually SIT on public toilet!?

 

[Matata]

Date: 11/3/2005 11:36:24 AM
Author: Pricescope
There are people who actually SIT on public toilet!?

Not if you''re female......here''s what we''re taught

The Real Restroom Story

My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a little girl, she''d bring me in the stall, teach me 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 seat.”

And 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.

But by this time, I''d have wet down my leg and we''d go home.

That was a long time ago. Even now in our more mature years, The Stance is excruciatingly difficult to maintain when one''s bladder is especially full. When you have to "go" in a public bathroom, you find a line of women that makes you think there''s a half-price sale on Nelly''s underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, also crossing their legs and smiling politely.

And you finally get closer.

You check for feet under the stall doors.

Every one is occupied.

Finally, a stall door opens and you dash, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.

You get in to find the door won''t latch. It doesn''t matter.

You hang your purse on the door hook, yank down your pants and assume "The Stance."

Relief. More relief.

Then your thighs 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 as your thighs experience a quake that would register an eight on the Richter scale.

To take your mind off it, you reach for the toilet paper.

The toilet paper dispenser is empty.

Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on-that''s in your purse.

It would have to do. You crumble 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 and your purse whams you in the head. "Occupied!" you scream as you reach out for the door, dropping your tissue in a puddle and falling backward, directly onto the toilet seat.

You get up quickly, but it''s too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with all the germs and life forms on the bare seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper, not that there was any, even if you had enough time to. And your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, "You don''t know what kind of diseases you could get."

And by this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water akin to a fountain and then it suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged to China.

At that point, you give up. You''re soaked by the splashing water.

You''re exhausted. You try to wipe with a Chicklet wrapper you found in your pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can''t figure out how to operate the sinks with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and unable to smile politely at this point.

One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the

Mississippi River! You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman''s hand and say warmly, “Here. You might need this."

At this time, you see your man, who has entered, used and exited his bathroom and read a copy of War and Peace while waiting for you. "What took you so long?" he asks, annoyed. This is when you kick him sharply in the shin and go home.

This is dedicated to all women everywhere who have ever had to deal with a public toilet. And it finally explains to all you men what
takes us so long.

PS - The answer to the other question, why women go in pairs. So the other woman can hold the door and hand you Kleenex.

 

[kenny]

Maybe they should have a bar above the toilet for women to hang from.

 

[bling*diva*]

~~Matata, that story was hilarious (and understanble)!!!

 

[bling*diva*]

~~*Understandable*

~~Geez, I can''t spell today!!!

 

[pricescope]

Bar? What kind of bar, Kenny? Be careful with synonyms.
Don''t even start it with Matata and alcohol, look what i did with my innocent question about a restroom?
Who would call it a rest after that essay?

 

[belle]

Date: 11/3/2005 11:59:29 AM
Author: kenny
Maybe they should have a bar above the toilet for women to hang from.

eeewwww who would want to touch that?

 

[Matata]

Date: 11/3/2005 2:04:41 PM
Author: Pricescope
Bar? What kind of bar, Kenny? Be careful with synonyms.
Don''t even start it with Matata and alcohol, look what i did with my innocent question about a restroom?
Who would call it a rest after that essay?

Heyyyyy, what are you implying? I haven''t had a drink since breakfast. I don''t even want to know why you use that room to rest.

 

[Kaleigh]

Yuck!!

 

[MINE!!]

Great story Matata!!

 

[cymbrie]

OMG LOL that perked up my morning...Matata you NEED to do a stand up routine with that little bit I thought I was the ONLY one who had a mom who did that LOL!

I will NEVER forget the time my college roommate from out of town came to visit one summer and we were at a Berkeley cafe in one of those pay to get into the toilet places so we went together to avoid the double charge (we were poor college kids). It was one of the most squalorous restrooms I''d ever seen and she just plopped her bare butt down on the toilet. I squealed in horror and told her mom''s version of "the stance" story. She just looked at me deer in the headlights. Of course her mother was the one who came to our apartment and washed the dishes with the bathroom gloves (yes they had frequented the toilet during cleanings)

Automatic flush toilets are the bane of my public toilet experience...I''ve devised all sorts of methods to foil this demon of modernization...