Ha-ha-ha!!!…Bathroom humor -from Divine Divi♥
Hopefully this will help men understand why it takes women so long in public
> washrooms.
>
> 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 (God I should have gone to the
> gym!!!) thigh muscles begin to shake.
> 0A
> 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 KNOWNthere 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 will 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 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 theTOILET 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 e-x-h-a-U-S-t-e-d.
> 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!
>
> Send this to all women that understand what bonding in the bathroom is all
> about!
>
> 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!!!
>
> Share with anyone who needs a good laugh!
>
