[Loch-Ruadh] The Stance (rather long but comical)

[Kathy Varner]

 >  Only a woman will TRULY relate to the following, but it's a  "hoot" for
 >all!
 >
 >  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. 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 Nelly'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 the
 >  woman's hand and say warmly, "Here, you might need this."
 >At this time, you see your man, 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.
 >Women go in pairs, so the other woman can hold the door and  hand you
 >Kleenex
 >
 >
 >
 >
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