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#145387 - 09/16/02 03:01 PM Mrs.Zeke wrote this after having to pee at Fido's
CAPTAIN bigzeke Offline
My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a little girl, she'd bring 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." Imagine if she ever saw Fido's!
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 peed down my leg. We'd go home.
That was a long time ago. I've had lots of experience with public toilets since then, but I'm still not particularly fond of public toilets, especially those with powerful, redeye sensors. Don't think that Fido's has these..HaHa! Those toilets, know when you want them to flush. They are psychic toilets. But I always confuse their psychic ability by following my mother's advice and assuming "The Stance." "The Stance" is excruciatingly difficult to maintain when one's bladder is especially full. This is most likely to occur after watching a full-length feature film.
During the movie pee, it is nearly impossible to hold "The Stance." You know what I mean. You drink a 2 liter cup of Diet Coke, then sit still through a 3 hour saga because for God's sake, even if you didn't wipe or wash your hands in the bathroom, you'd still miss the pivotal part of the movie or the 2nd scene, in which they flash the leading man's naked derriere. So, you cross your legs and hold it. You hold it until the first credit rolls and you spring to the bathroom, about ready to explode all over your internal organs.
At the bathroom, you find a line of women that makes you think there's a
1/2 price sale on Mel Gibson's or my husband Zeke's underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, also crossing their legs and smiling politely. You finally get closer. You check for feet under the stall doors. Every one is occupied. You hope no one is doing frivolous things behind those stall doors, like blowing her nose or checking the contents of her wallet.
Finally, a stall door opens and you dash, nearly knocking down the women leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter. You hand your handbag 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." Your thighs experience a quake that would register an 8 on the Richter Scale.
To take your mind off it, you reach for the toilet paper. Might as well be ready when you are done. The toilet paper dispenser is empty. Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny napkin you wiped your fingers on after eating buttered popcorn. 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 pocketbook whams you in the head. "Occupied!" you scream as you reach out for the door, dropping your buttered popcorn napkin 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 that was any, even if you had enough time to. 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."
By this time the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet, is so confused that it flushes, sending 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 finished peeing. 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 sensor, 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 at the Mississippi River! You yank the paper from the 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. It also finally explains to all you men what takes us so long. That's a big AMEN!
There is only one cure for baldness. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.

#145388 - 09/16/02 03:15 PM Re: Mrs.Zeke wrote this after having to pee at Fido's
in a word, i call that "hovering"

also, you must never touch the flush lever with your bare hands. if it is low enough you can use your toe. . . if not wrap your hand with t paper first.

#145389 - 09/16/02 03:51 PM Re: Mrs.Zeke wrote this after having to pee at Fido's
Bobber Offline
But, that still doesn't explain where Penis envy came from, originally.
Been there, done that, the washing machine ate the T-shirt

#145390 - 09/16/02 05:24 PM Re: Mrs.Zeke wrote this after having to pee at Fido's
belizeanblue Offline
isn't penis envy where you look over to the other urinal and see that the other guy has a bigger one????

or is it....

finding out that HER boyfriend has a bigger one than YOUR girlfriend?

or is it....

finding out that HIS boyfriend has a bigger on than YOUR boyfriend.

#145391 - 09/16/02 06:15 PM Re: Mrs.Zeke wrote this after having to pee at Fido's
Bobber Offline
Nope, not unless you are abnormally insecure.
Been there, done that, the washing machine ate the T-shirt

#145392 - 09/16/02 06:37 PM Re: Mrs.Zeke wrote this after having to pee at Fido's
penis envy is when for every 85 cents that a woman earns, the man next to you is making $1.00 for the same work.

#145393 - 09/16/02 06:50 PM Re: Mrs.Zeke wrote this after having to pee at Fido's
Chloe Offline
My only P E is because I cannot live my life brainless too.

Ok yeah, and that .85 to 1.00, too.
Dare To Deviate

#145394 - 09/16/02 06:52 PM Re: Mrs.Zeke wrote this after having to pee at Fido's
Bobber Offline
Nothing whatsoever to do with a Penis. Whenever a penis is involved in a business deal, it is a liability and not an asset.

Why do I get the impression I am fighting this battle alone?
Been there, done that, the washing machine ate the T-shirt

#145395 - 09/16/02 07:43 PM Re: Mrs.Zeke wrote this after having to pee at Fido's
Johnboy Offline
None of my business really, but have you ever really "Won" an arguement with a woman???????

#145396 - 09/16/02 08:14 PM Re: Mrs.Zeke wrote this after having to pee at Fido's
KC Offline
Johnboy -- You are so smart.
Bobber -- Take lessons from Johnboy.

"You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."

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