Maybe it's because moms take the kids, I don't know. But I don't really think that's it either because there wasn't one kid in the line that wrapped around two flippin corners. Here's the kicker... it seems ALL women get pissed off about long lines and complain about it the whole time they're in line. If all women hate the long lines than DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! It seems we could all work together to fix this problem, no?
Most the time I just go pop a squat somewhere. Especially if there's alcohol involved. But let's face it, there are just times you have to wait. Tell me what your thoughts are on this ladies. What can we do to change the world?
Have a great week!
4 cleansing comments:
Your post reminds me of an e-mail I received from a friend today:
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 thumb nail .
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 K NOW 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 op erate 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 l ine points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDEDit??) 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 m en 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!
I haven't had a close friendship with a girlfriend that hasn't included stories about peeing your pants or ocassions when you are on the verge. Most women can relate to any of the following.
• Hitting your significant other for missing the exit when the next rest area is 40 miles away. You kinda feel like giving a kidney punch so they can share the feeling.
And they think we're being lady like. Nope, just the pre-sneeze squeeze.
• Enduring less than sanitary men's restrooms. Generally men are a good aim, so why can't they hit the urinal?
• Meeting the new neighbors when your child announces, 'Mommy remember when you pee'd your pants"
• Don't you hate it when that 5 minute phone call turns into 30 minutes and you have to go. "Hey I hate to cut you short, but I have an appointment (and its in the bathroom)."
Here are some facts about women and urinary incontinence: Women suffer double the rate of men. Millions of women suffer from young to old. It ranges from a mild nuisance to debilitating. Causes include weakening of your muscles due to pregnancy & childbirth, being over weight and other diseases such as diabetes. It is treatable and manageable. I found this website that gives the 411 on this subject, National Kidney and Urologic Disease Information Clearinghouse.
We do joke about this subject from time to time but it is worth doing some research and discussing it with your doctor if it is preventing you from living a full life.
Here's my story. It doesn't involve weakened bladder from pregnancy but it's my potty story none the less.
Most days as a 6 year old were care free. No worries, but this day presented me with a mind boggling decision. It ranked as the most significant dilemma of the year. Touching the snake or being called a "scaredy cat" by my older brother ranking second.
My mother had dropped me off at the end of our L O N G country lane as she drove away to town, not to miss her appointment. The bus was just coming over the hill when all of a sudden, "I have to pee". Here were my options, a) drop my pants in front of the whole bus and spare the wet pants. Being very shy this was not happening, b) run back home, spare the wet pants and be home alone the rest of the day. Remember the scaredy cat thing. Not an option, or c) stand there pee my pants and cry. Well you guessed it, C was the only option.
I got on the bus declaring, "I pee'd my pants". Thank goodness for the caring bus driver. YES and NO. Well, I was the second to last pick up and the last one was a boy in my class. The bus drive took me inside and this boy's mother gave me a pair of HIS underwear to wear. What was I suppose to do, refuse a dry pair of underwear? I was young but not stupid. I actually had a skirt on so we didn't have the soaked pants to deal with. I was embarrassed but not as embarrassed if I had to go to school with completely wet underpants and skirt. Frankly I don't remember if my sock got wet. They probably were. Yuck.
Here's the moral of the story. When children or grandchildren (or female friends for that matter) say they need to go to the bathroom take them seriously. They would be just as embarrassed as you would be peeing your pants during church or that important business meeting.
Paugheeing - Laughing so hard you pee your pants. You don't need to have a bladder control problem to do this & in a weird way i actually recommend laughing this hard.
Runneeing - Making your way to the restroom in a deliberate way without revealing that you are about to pee your pants.
Potty Dance - Pretending to dance when actually you are moving to distract you from the likelihood of peeing your pants. "I don't have to go to the bathroom that bad. I just like to dance when the line at the lady's room is really long".
Pre-Sneeze Squeeze -
Crossing your legs or pressing them together just before you sneeze in an attempt to avoid leakage. Sometimes they sneak up on you and you don't have time for the pre-sneeze squeeze.
No suggestions, but I agree it takes way too long. Just popping in from MBC... Great blog!
Many times I need to pee badly while outside my house with no near bathrooms.As I generally wear skirts,I just pee myself down my legs.After a few seconds,my legs become dry,only my panties are wet.I try not to sit,nobody will realise that I did it in my panties except if he smelled my legs.Nobody will have this opurtunity,so I just go un noticed.AS soon as I GO HOME,i CHANGE MY CLOTHES.iT IS WORTH MENTIONING THAT IF i DO NOT TAKE A SHOWER,NOBODY WILL NOTICE EITHER,EXCEPT IF HE KEEPS SNIFFING MY LEGS
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