Dear girl friends...I think we can all relate to this one!

Dear boy friends...read it and a mistery will be revealed!

I pissed myself laughing

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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 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. 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 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

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. 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!

This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could

describe it so accurately!

It wasn't me