It was on the surface a haha meme that my old friend CF sent me and which, because I can empathise fully with the scenarios depicted, I sent on to peeps on my email list, limiting the recipients mostly to women.
I received some very heartfelt response, mostly short and snappy, with some biting wit. What surprised me most was the written reaction by two dear friends — whom I’ve never associated with the written word, as both are successful business women more busy doing than writing.
So I am very impressed by what they wrote on the subject that’s very dear to our behinds 🙄
I would like to share their thoughts and stance, no pun intended, with visitors to my blog.
These visitors like me will conclude that given an appropriate topic many ordinary folks can write as well as Sumiko Tan, if not better! I kid you not :D!
Response 1 from PY:
While queuing, I always grumple under my breadth why each lady before me, often takes such a long time to come out of the cubicle. While understanding all that is said in the original circular is real, we ladies could have helped to shorten the long queue by getting prepared and thinking of others.
If I see a long queue, I would loosen my belt first to prepare myself. Once in, I do what I need to do quickly, thinking of the urgency of the others in the queue. Once done, I would step out of the cubicle and fasten my belt, adjust my skirt, etc. What can be done outside of the cubicle, I will do it, freeing the much wanted space to the next user. But I notice from years of standing outside the cubicle, we, ladies have a tendency to take time to adjust ourselves inside the cubicle. Worse, some still use the handphone to converse inside the cubicle.
If it is a busy and long queue outside, please be considerate and think how you could help to shorten the waiting time for others.
If it is a short toilet queue, by all means, enjoy your private space and time inside the cubicle!!!
Response 2 from LE:
Some of the descriptions are so true! That i m having that action in my mind! It makes me laugh..lol..
Then again, despite Singapore being called a ‘clean city’, why not the toilets…why can’t we have toilets like those in Japan..
I simply love ‘visiting’ Japan toilets~n have fun using all the gadgets: hot seat/spray/blower/music n what have u! Even the squat~type is positioned so nicely that u won’t find ‘pee’ all over!
I just came back from Hakuba; there is a toilet that i visited; belongs to a restaurant, near Matsumoto Castle. It even provides a self dispensing mint water n cup for u to freshen after the meal.. So thotful isn’t it?
And the toilets make nice pic too.. This is one country that i will take picture, in TOILET, n showcase them in my album..
Having said that, i will see how urgent i m; otherwise i will not Q N yes, i would do like what PY described, unbelting if i have one, go take paper n wet it n get ready( used to the Japan-spray!)
If no paper avaiablel, I dig in my bag see if there is any.. n just observe those in Q n those coming out of cubicle n if i m mindful, send loving kindness to all these ladies n smile maybe, if there is any eye contact.. Nowadays everybody seems so busy, wif their HPs..
And no, i will not talk or even answer the HP if it rings when i m inside..just like driving.. All else can wait.. It takes only seconds..
N i usually don’t sit either. I don’t know why, even the toilets in 5-star hotels or whatsoever, it’s just my habit! And thanks to my years of yoga, my thigh muscles are still strong! Hahaha
The original meme that started it all
ONLY LADIES WILL UNDERSTAND ……..
When you have to visit a public toilet, 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 cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the
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 Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty.
You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!) down with your pants and assume ‘The Stance’. In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake.
You’d love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to lay toilet paper on it, 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, ‘Dear, 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 bag (the bag around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would have to do, so 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 bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest and you and your bag 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, while losing your footing altogether and sliding 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 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 and spraying a fine mist of water that covers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes.
The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and 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 sweet wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can’t figure out how to operate the taps 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 spotted your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men’s toilet.
Annoyed, he asks, ‘What took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck?
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with any public rest rooms/toilets (rest??? you’ve GOT to be kidding!!).
It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers that other commonly asked question about why women go to the toilets in pairs. It’s so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your bag and hand you Kleenex under the door. This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so accurately.