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Author Topic: Women, hit the can first!!!!  (Read 2743 times)
Cindi
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« on: February 11, 2008, 09:22:02 AM »

To all the forum ladies, you're gonna get a hoot and a hollar out of this one, and can probably relate!!!  Hee, hee, smiling that secret smile.....Cindi

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 careful ly, 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 th e 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 b e 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
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There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold.  The Arctic trails have their secret tales that would make your blood run cold.  The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, but the queerest they ever did see, what the night on the marge of Lake Lebarge, I cremated Sam McGee.  Robert Service
kathyp
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« Reply #1 on: February 11, 2008, 11:26:09 AM »

we have all been there!  my mother was germ freak.  she wouldn't touch anything in the bathroom without a paper towel.  i got over it the first time i had to go to the bathroom on one of the old trains in japan.  it was a hole in the floor and you could see the track through the bottom.  try that on a moving train!!
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« Reply #2 on: February 11, 2008, 11:48:47 AM »

I don't care how bad I have to go, I always check for toilet paper first, then curse the inconsiderate creep who peed all over the seat before I went into that stall - I wipe the seat down then put toilet paper on it before I sit, and yes, I do sit, because I will not be that creep that leaves the mess for the next woman who has to go in there.  Now mind you, Cindi I am not calling you a creep - it's the person who went before you who is that!  angry

If you sprinkle when you tinkle please be neat and wipe the seat!  Although what I really have to say can't be printed in a family forum.

Women can be truly disgusting!

Sorry for the rant. It's a particular peeve of mine.

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annette
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« Reply #3 on: February 11, 2008, 12:33:40 PM »

Same with the trains in India. Just a hole in the floor. That takes quite a lot of manuvering with those trains racing and being thrown around in the stall. They do not even provide toilet paper so you have to have your own kleenex with you.

Annette
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Cindi
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« Reply #4 on: February 11, 2008, 09:43:02 PM »

Ha, girls, funneeees, how did I think you guys would be the ones to reply to that joke, hee, hee.  Ooops, on a train, peeing through a hole, not doesn't that just beat it all, shaking all the way.  Ann, no kiddin' eh, I am rather anal about that stuff too, hee, hee.  Have the best and most wonderful day, love our life.  Cindi
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There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold.  The Arctic trails have their secret tales that would make your blood run cold.  The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, but the queerest they ever did see, what the night on the marge of Lake Lebarge, I cremated Sam McGee.  Robert Service
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« Reply #5 on: February 11, 2008, 11:57:47 PM »

OK Cindi I am here.

I'm sure some of the guys are wondering why bother raising the seat if you gals are gonna wet it down anyway  rolleyes
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Cindi
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« Reply #6 on: February 12, 2008, 12:01:16 AM »

Jerry, ha!!!!!!  You are disgusting!!!  tongue tongue tongue and a  Wink Smiley Smiley Smiley What a picture, hee, hee.   Have an awesome and beautiful day in our life. Cindi
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There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold.  The Arctic trails have their secret tales that would make your blood run cold.  The Northern Lights have seen queer sights, but the queerest they ever did see, what the night on the marge of Lake Lebarge, I cremated Sam McGee.  Robert Service
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« Reply #7 on: February 12, 2008, 03:49:47 AM »

we have all been there!  my mother was germ freak.  she wouldn't touch anything in the bathroom without a paper towel.  i got over it the first time i had to go to the bathroom on one of the old trains in japan.  it was a hole in the floor and you could see the track through the bottom.  try that on a moving train!!

Yeah, and the ones in restaruants etc are just depressions with the foot pads raised so you don't get your shoes dirty.  We used to call them bombsite latrines.
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DayValleyDahlias
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« Reply #8 on: February 12, 2008, 11:55:52 AM »

I call it 'Toilet Yoga' 
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« Reply #9 on: February 12, 2008, 01:32:49 PM »

been there brian and kathyp  the shinjuku was a little betterr than that when i was there ( it had a flusher after a fasion) but still not my favorite design:D
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« Reply #10 on: February 28, 2008, 01:32:30 PM »

Same with the trains in India. Just a hole in the floor.


Speaking of those trains in India,

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080228/od_nm/india_toilet_dc
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« Reply #11 on: February 28, 2008, 02:31:32 PM »

OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!  How absolutely terrible!  EEEEW!
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« Reply #12 on: February 28, 2008, 05:06:54 PM »

I want to know...why some toilet seats are complete rings while others have that missing part, like a horseshoe shape?
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« Reply #13 on: February 28, 2008, 05:12:36 PM »

Answered my own question:

http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://darkcreek.com/files/images/Asian_Toilet.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.darkcreek.com/toilets&h=513&w=400&sz=68&hl=en&start=1&sig2=7IdQiNOzRLtwuLy-TbVbQQ&um=1&tbnid=zqFE3QVKlIMatM:&tbnh=131&tbnw=102&ei=4jDHR8etFqnOpgTp49AT&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dtoilets%2Baround%2Bthe%2Bworld%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26rls%3Den-us%26sa%3DN
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kathyp
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« Reply #14 on: February 28, 2008, 07:17:42 PM »

that was a great site!!
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.....The greatest changes occur in their country without their cooperation. They are not even aware of precisely what has taken place. They suspect it; they have heard of the event by chance. More than that, they are unconcerned with the fortunes of their village, the safety of their streets, the fate of their church and its vestry. They think that such things have nothing to do with them, that they belong to a powerful stranger called “the government.” They enjoy these goods as tenants, without a sense of ownership, and never give a thought to how they might be improved.....

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« Reply #15 on: February 28, 2008, 09:21:39 PM »

Bombsite latrines..... No we called those squatters.. Lived there for two years... came home with thighs of steel!!!!
Frantz
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« Reply #16 on: February 29, 2008, 06:25:19 AM »

Cindi, very funny!!! Very descriptive, having me laugh that loud gutteral belly laugh, where the ribs hurt. As you know, the men's bathroom is quite disgusting!!! Where do I start!! Complete animals we are with no concerns for the next dude that wanders in behind us. Just filthy and plain disgusting, true real life horror. No tellin' what sort of germs and disease lie waiting in men's bathrooms waiting their chance to infect some poor soul that didn't perform the necessary desanitizing procedures, like if there was really such a thing as that in the men's bathroom! I use them for short visits or emergencies only!!! Scary stuff man, scary stuff!!!!  grin Btw, I printed your post so my wife could read it later at work.

....JP
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« Reply #17 on: February 29, 2008, 04:14:17 PM »

Squatters (aka bombsite latrines) are very common every place in the world except north america.  I remember one in turkey at the top of the mountain pass between Ankara and Samson.  It was placed over a creek for self flushing.
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