Men would be just as gross if they had pads to deal with.

EW to not washing hands! I guess I'm lucky because peeps on my floor actually wash (or maybe they feel obliged because I do?) their hands before leaving. I'm so paranoid, I take a paper towel to open the door because I don't want pee germs on my hands.

I HATE pee drops on the seat!!!! WHYYYY!!! Just plunk your dumb *** down, pee, FLUSH (another pet peeve) and leave!! Don't leave a mile worth of TP and pee spots to boot.

Mmmpf. Seems like I'm just riled this morning, aren't I?

Oh, this made me laugh. Here is some more bathroom humor I've saved because it makes me laugh every time I read it.- I thought it was a good fit here.

> > My mother was a fanatic about public bathrooms. When I was a little
> > girl, she'd take me into 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.
> >
> > Then 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. By this time, I'd
> > have wet down my leg and we'd have to go home to change my clothes.
> >
> > That was a long time ago. Even now, in my more "mature years, "The
> > Stance" is excruciatingly difficult to maintain, especially when
> > one's bladder is full. When you have to "go" in a public bathroom,
> > you usually 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, who are
> > also crossing their legs and smiling politely.
> > You get closer and check for feet under the stall doors.
> > Every one 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 dispenser for the new fangled "seat covers"
> > (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would
> > hang your purse on the door hook if there were one - but there isn't
> > - so you carefully but quickly hang 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." Ahhhh relief. More relief.
> >
> > But then your thighs begin to shake .You'dlovetositdownbut
> > 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 of 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 would have
> > 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 That
> > would have to do.
> > You crumple 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.
> > 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, and sliding down,
> > directly onto the insidious toilet seat. You bolt up quickly;
> > 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 ashamed of you if she
> > knew, because you're certain that 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, sending up a stream of water akin to a
> > fountain that suddenly sucks everything down with such force that
> > you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged
> > off to China.
> >
> > At that point, you give up- because you are soaked by the splashing
> > water. 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 operate the faucets 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, at this
> > point, no longer able to smile politely.
> >
> > 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! (Where was it 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 spot your hubby, who has since entered, used and
> > exited the men's restroom and read a copy of War and Peace while
> > waiting for you. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why
> > is your purse hanging around your neck?"
> >
> > This is dedicated to women everywhere who have ever had to deal With
> > a public restroom (rest??? you've got to be kidding!!).
> > It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long.
> >
> > It also answers their other commonly asked question about why women
> > go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other woman can hold the
> > door and hand you Kleenex under the door.

I keep a bottle of hand sanitizer in my purse and use that instead of washing my hands when there are no paper towels. I will not use the dryers; they scare the crap out of my kids & don't dry my hands. So if you see me scooching out of the bathroom without washing my hands, realize I've used the Purell.

But yes, I hate tiny public restroom stalls. I don't like using the handicapped stalls, but with three kids I pretty much have to. Even when I only take in the potty trained ones, there is not enough room in one of the normal stalls.

I share the pee-on-the-seat peeve. If you're gonna pee standing up like a man, lift the seat like a man! (Use your foot, you germophobe, & talk to me sometime about the bacteria levels in a toilet vs your kitchen sink.)

My biggest frustration with tiny bathroom stalls came at Babies R Us in Chesapeake, VA. A seven-months-pregnant woman does not need to be climbing up on the toilet to open the door!

And WHY must all the stall doors open INWARD?

My peave with the Chesapeake's Babies R Us the one time I visited...they had a nice little private changing/sitting room for the little ones. But they need to empty the diaper pail more often than "after overload". Pewwwwwwwwwwww!

Glad I could help!

Hahahaa! This is SO funny, but SO true. When I first started working here, I would go home for my fifteen minute break before and after lunch to use the restroom. Now I'm a little better. I spray down the toilet with my own personal stash of lysol spray and then wash my hands and hold on to the paper towel until I'm at my desk.

I also tend to hold it WAY too long when I'm on the road. Once I made it from my house to my parents' without going. Problem was it's a 7 1/2 - 8 hour drive and I couldn't hug them for needing to pee so bad. They thought it was funny, but I was SO embarassed!!

hehehe. i used to do that. i'd wait all day to avoid the public restroom...

as a result, now when I have to go, i have to go NOW!!!! and there is no waiting, not even 10 minutes most of the time. it's sad. *L* i swear all i do is pee, once i got up 4 times in the middle of the night. ugh.

he he he

When my SIL was pregnant ... big, huge pregnant ... I'd always use the small stall and leave the handicapped for her. She started to cry once because she thought I thought she was too fat for the regular one.
I was just trying to be courteous

LOL Chalk it up to hormones. I've never been a crier. Old Yeller doesn't affect me. But I cried over....CARTOONS, while I was pregnant. Go figure.