Restrooms

[auntiedeb]

lmao lmao

[Britgal]

Carley that a wonderful post, and so true, I know my mother would be laughing her head off, if she were here right now and saying "thats right, that what I told you should do, when using a public toilet. I loved it, thanks for posting, hugs Iris. hi lmao lmao lmao

[ICNJess]

LOL Carley, I NEVER get sick of that story!!! It is the absolute truth! That is definitely my mother!!! lmao lmao lmao lmao

[Aspencad]

Felineperson3, Just read your post. As a male gender person I got a good laugh out of it. I grew up with 6 (six) sisters and have always been atuned to you gals pain and what you go through that us males don't. Because of this, I have always admired and respected you gals. My Mother did a good job raising me (my opinion). The visual images/pictures that went through my mind as I read it could probably not be illistrated but I can remember my Mother telling/teaching my sisters the same method. I laugh because I myself was in a public place long ago when because of the long line at the womens rest room a young lady came into the mans rest room. She could not wait any longer. At the time I just minded my own business, alot of the guys did a double take. Now that I know what I know about IC (and have it myself) I can understand her plight even more. Sometimes because we are ignorant to Truth we judge/discern wrongly. Although my Mother is gone now, I really appreciate what she taught me growing up regarding not only the opposite sex, but about people in general. If I had not grown up with so many sisters my view would probably be different. Thanks for the laugh.

[felineperson3]

hi
Probably many of us can identify with this one. lmao

My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a little girl, she'd
take 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 Mel Gibson'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 in the woman's hand and say warmly,
"Here. You might need this."
At this time, you see your spouse, 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. hat