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AUNTY S
PMSL
I NOW NEED THE LOO
THAT WAS BRILLIANT
THANK YOU
XXXXXX
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. Have you ever tried drying liquid soap with hot air? Ten minutes later you stumble out and shuffle past the queue of waiting women, still cross-legged and, at this point, you no longer care that your manic grimace is met with disapproving stares.
Just when you thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, one kind soul at the very end of the queue points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the river Nile! (Where was it when you NEEDED it??) You rip the paper from your shoe, shove it in the woman's hand and tell her cattily, "Here—you might need this."
As you leave the house of horrors, you spot your husband loitering impatiently outside, having long since entered, used and left the men's toilets and read a copy of Gone with the Wind whist waiting for you.
The icing on the cake will be when he asks: "What took you so long, darling, and why is your skirt tucked into the back of your knickers?"
Silently you curse the bitch who pointed out the toilet paper stuck to your shoe, but omitted to mention that your bum has been on display to every pervert in the place.
Our male readers will now know not only why women take so long to powder their noses, but also why we always go to the toilet in pairs. It's so the other woman can hold the door shut and pass you the toilet paper under the door.
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Here you are. It has been posted before but it makes me laugh.
If there's one thing guaranteed to fill any woman with fear and loathing it's the prospect of having to visit a public toilet
When you have to visit a public loo, you usually find a line of anxious women have got there before you, which makes you think you must have taken a wrong turning and stumbled across a half-price sale of M&S underwear.
So, you wait, trying not to look as if you're squeezing your legs together and smile politely at all the other women, who are also trying not to cross their legs and smiling through clenched teeth.
As you get closer to your goal, you start checking for feet under cubicle doors. Naturally every one is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the cubicle. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter; you have long arms and tell yourself: 'I'll just keep one hand against it.'
At this point you would hang your handbag on the coat hook if there was one—but there isn't—so you hang it around your neck whilst glancing furtively about to make sure no one saw you commit such a dreadful faux pas. You could put it on floor, but given that the floors in public toilets are invariably wet, you might just as well pee in it yourself.
Finally, you yank down your knickers, and assume the dreaded 'Position'.
Ahhhh, relief. More relief. But then your thighs begin to shake, not helped by the fact that your left arm is stretched to its fullest extent trying to keep the door shut. You'd love to sit down but you didn't have time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper down, so you hold 'The Position' as a quake that would register an eight on the Richter scale travels through your aching thighs.
To take your mind off the pain, you reach for what you now discover is an empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying: "Darling, if you'd cleaned the seat first, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!"
Your thigh muscles are seconds away from snapping like old knicker elastic. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday—the one that's in your handbag, which you cannot unzip because you only have one free hand. So you take your hand off the door and scrabble about in your bag until you find a ball of paper that would barely cover a gnat's ar*e You smooth it out and fluff it up, but it is still only slightly larger than your thumbnail.
At this point someone pushes open the door because you've taken your hand away to open your bag. The door hits your handbag, which thumps you in the chest and you and your bag topple backward against the toilet cistern—which is disconcertingly wet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you slam the door shut, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue on the wet floor and parking your naked bum directly on the odious toilet seat. You recoil instantly, knowing only too well the damage is done.
Your bare ar*e made contact with every imaginable germ on the planet because YOU never laid down toilet paper on the filthy seat—not that there was any, even if you had bothered to look. You may even have contracted a sexually transmitted disease—or worse, been impregnated by some adventurous sperm that escaped from the disgusting slut who sat on the seat before you, and has been patiently biding its time waiting for its next victim.
You know that your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because you're certain that her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat in her life. By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water to rival Niagara Falls that sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of having your bottom dragged off to Australia.
At that point, you give up. Your skirt is soaked by the splashing water, your blouse is sticking to your back, there's pee running down your legs and your expensive Aubade knickers look like the cat's been sleeping in them. You're exhausted. You try to wipe yourself with a crumpled bus ticket you found in your pocket, and slink out inconspicuously to the washbasins, but not before laddering your tights on the broken door latch which you now discover has a bl**dy great nail sticking out of it.
You can't work out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wash your hands with liquid soap (most of which ends up on your blouse) and dry them under the hot air blower because, of course, there are no paper towels in the dispensers. (cont'd)
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Go shopping with a back pack that way all fits in and easy to handle when needing the loo.
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My handbag is like a nose bag when I use a public loo.I once left a handbag on the back of a loo door and then caught the train.It was found still hanging there but minus my purse with a fair amount of money and bank cards.Not an easy thing to do is it ? going to the loo with bags of shopping plus the Handbag.Men don't know they are born lol
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my friends old granny went on holiday on a coach with a toilet
and she hung her bag on the lock as the bus went round a corner
she grabbed out and caught her bag
and the door flung open revealing her sat on the loo
with her bloomers round he ankles
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I always use a shoulder bag and sling it round my neck. Leave OH outside to hold the shopping or supervise the shopping trolly. I am seldom out without him as I dont drive.
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Hubby and I were looking round a car boot sale one very frosty day, when my bladder stated that it wanted to go NOW.
After waiting in the queue for the dubious privilidge of using the portaloo,I dashed in,yanked down my brand new,still stiff jeans,and hovered over the loo,as you do.
When I pulled up my jeans with a sigh of relief,I realised that I hadn't hovered far back enough,and all the wee was pooled in the seat of my jeans,and it cascaded warmly down my legs.
Husband thought it was hilarious,and remarked that if I had known that was going to happen,I may as well just peed myself as we were walking round.
Yes,after once forgetting my bag in the toilet,I always hold onto it whether there is a hook or not.
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Dizzi
The answer to your question is Take the other half shopping and get him to carry the bags. I thought that was what husbands were for plus paying for the shopping.LOL
Pat
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roflmao...of Dizzi...now I have a vivid picture of that in my head. Might have to use that lighter to burn it out...pmsl
Been very busy but just lost my job so have time on my hands now. Ta for asking.
Deb
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HI DEBS WHERE YOU BEEN,,
ITS TRUE
ON HOLIDAY YEARS AGO IN MALTA
WENT TO A LOO WITH NO LIGHTS
I SHOULD NEVER OF USED MY LIGHTER
TO SEE WHAT I WAS TREADING ON
I RAN STRAIGHT OUT TO THE SEA
SHOES AND ALL
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lol...Dizzi...I should send you a copy of the essay I wrote for my creative writing course on just that subject...okay and some other valid points made...lolol. I got an "A" by the way. pmsl.
Deb
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Sorry Gwen...but LADIES don't answer questions like that in public :-)))))
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LOO ROLL NOW THATS ANOTHER QUESTION LOL
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Hold the bags in one hand
yank your nikers down
and drip dry
Lol dizzi xxx
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QUESTION FOR THE LADIES
IN PUBLIC LOOS
NO
HOOK ON THE DOOR
SHOPPING BAGS
DO YOU PUT THEM ON THE FLOOR
OR TRY TO USE THE LOO
HANGING ON TO THE BAGS AS WELL
YOU SEEN SOME OFTHOSE FLOORS
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