Re: Its funny joke Thursday!
THE LADIES ROOM
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!), you 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,
it 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 that 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, and he asks "Why 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!
