I don’t like using public restrooms.  I only use public restrooms when I’m desperate or I’m traveling.  I was not traveling today.  I used the public facilities at a local restaurant which means my use was due to the former and not the latter.

I am ignorant when it comes to using public restrooms.  When I enter, the only thing I

really check over well is the cleanliness of the place.  If the facility is too bad, I suck it up and “hold it” until I either get home or get to a place that I can tolerate.  Not checking the room prior to use can be a big mistake so I assume most frequent users probably check to make sure there is running water, soap to wash your hands, towels to dry your hands, toilet seat covers, and toilet paper.  If I were a frequent user these would be the things I would check; but since I leave my use to travel or desperation, I generally don’t take the time to check.

Today was no different than other times I’ve used a public facility.  I had waited too long and the necessity of my use was eminent; my bladder had been stretched to capacity.  I excused myself politely from the lunch table and hurried off to the restroom hoping that it was one that I could use fairly comfortably. I pushed the swinging door open and scanned the room quickly.  All looked well.  There wasn’t a terrible odor, the floor was clean and dry, and the sinks looked clean.  Perfect!

I pushed my way into the single stall, ripped a cover from it’s holder, placed it strategically on the seat and sat down quickly.  The familiar heart encircled “Johnny loves Sue” was written on the back of the door for everyone’s viewing pleasure along with a few “Repent now; the end is near” slogans.

It didn’t take me but a few minutes to read the back of the door and prepare to leave; however, my departure was delayed by the toilet paper dispenser.  Thank goodness there was toilet paper in the holder (which I hadn’t taken the time to check before I sat down to read the back of the door).  There were, in fact, two brand new rolls of toilet paper pressed so tightly together that I could only pull the paper out in very small pieces.

So there I sat, pulling the toilet paper out bit by bit, tiny piece by tiny piece wishing for more wit to read on the back of the bathroom door.