Toilet ratio

[hornadylnl]

What would be the proper ratio of toilets needed so that your wife and daughter can get out of the restroom in a public place within 30 minutes of you? 10:1? 100:1?

 

[ATOMonkey]

lolz

 

[JetGirl]

Snagged from elsewhere for your understanding:

The Female Experience

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.

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 peed down my leg. And 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, red-eye sensors. 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 two liter cup of Diet Coke, then sit still through a three-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 second scene, in which they flash the leading man’s naked derriere.
So, you cross your legs and you hold it. And you hold it until that first credit rolls and you sprint 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 half-price sale on Mel Gibson’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. 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 woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won’t latch. It doesn’t matter. You hang 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 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. 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 there 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 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 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 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 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

 

[Rookie]

It doesn't matter.

They have to encase the whole toilet in toilet paper - 10 minutes
They have to pull their pants down - 3 minutes
They have to position themselves so they are just hovering (but not sitting) over the toilet - 7 minutes
They have to pee while hovering and clutching their pants (to keep them from touching the floor) - 30 seconds
They have to stop mid stream to continue their insane conversation - 4 minutes
They have to finish peeing - 10 seconds
They have to wipe - 2 minutes
They have to pull up their pants and get their panties just right - 7 minutes
They have to inspect their urine color and hope the massive amounts of toilet paper actually flush - 30 seconds
They have to wash their hands - 2 minutes
Of course there's a mirror - 2 to 10 minutes

Not counting any unforseen changes to their routine (running into a friend can add infinite amounts of time), there's at least 30 minutes...

 

[Bunnykid68]

What would be the proper ratio of toilets needed so that your wife and daughter can get out of the restroom in a public place within 30 minutes of you? 10:1? 100:1?

This is one of those trick questions that has no answer

 

[rockhopper46038]

Infinite.

 

[femurphy77]

Why do you think that wise man is sitting quietly up on top of that mountain top in Tibet? He's waiting for his wife to finish in the toilet!!!

 

[indyjoe]

And if she comes out and asks if that restroom made her look fat, say nothing!

 

[RockofStrength]

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.

I wasn't aware that theaters had couches for snoozing on. There's no way he read through War and Peace without falling asleep out of boredom.

 

[msteiner17]

Y'all are giving me SO much to look forward to with my wife and THREE daughters...

 

[Bunnykid68]

Y'all are giving me SO much to look forward to with my wife and THREE daughters...

Buy more toilets for home also. It is one thing to step out in the backyard when you need to pee cause the bathrooms are full, but Lord help you if you have need to poo

The back yard does work for that too though

 

[t_star]

to JetGirl's post.

Also, public women's restrooms are usually disgusting.
For example: this past weekend we participated in the Miracle Ride. The ending point was the Indry dragstrip. We go to leave, using the facilities on the way out. Darkkevin & our friend had done their business while I was cussing women out, in my head. I will not go into details, but I opted to take a FIFTY mile motorcycle ride before even being able to find that sweet relief.
I would have just used the mens room, but there were to many guys around.

 

[Bunnykid68]

to JetGirl's post.

Also, public women's restrooms are usually disgusting.
For example: this past weekend we participated in the Miracle Ride. The ending point was the Indry dragstrip. We go to leave, using the facilities on the way out. Darkkevin & our friend had done their business while I was cussing women out, in my head. I opted to take a FIFTY mile motorcycle ride before even being able to find that sweet relief.

I have to agree with your comment about womens restrooms being horrible. Worked at Thorntons years ago and the womens room was always the worse. One would think it would be the mens room, but what some women are willing to do with used toiletries is un freakin believable

 

[ATOMonkey]

The need to hover is a self fulfilling prophecy.

You hover because it's dirty, but hovering gets pee everywhere.

 

[GodFearinGunTotin]

What would be the proper ratio of toilets needed so that your wife and daughter can get out of the restroom in a public place within 30 minutes of you? 10:1? 100:1?

Even if there was one working, fully equipped, and accessorized toilet for each woman in the building, there wouldn't be enough to meet that time limit.

 

[LockStocksAndBarrel]

I have to agree with your comment about womens restrooms being horrible. Worked at Thorntons years ago and the womens room was always the worse. One would think it would be the mens room, but what some women are willing to do with used toiletries is un freakin believable

I worked at a Danner's 3D department strore in high school (yea, I know, I'm old). Of course, more women used the head but the difference in cleaning the men's head and women's head was astonishing.

It was my first experience in head cleaning and I gotta tell ya ladies, you all need to learn to aim.

I won't even go into the smells....ugh!

 

[ATOMonkey]

We had a ladies head in the Fraternity House.

Not only was it gross, but it was almost always covered with makeup grafitti.

It was a pain in the ass to clean.

 

[BrownDog]

The need to hover is a self fulfilling prophecy.

You hover because it's dirty, but hovering gets pee everywhere.

, this is what I keep telling my wife. But how would you stop every one from "hovering".