Jewish World Review May 10, 2012/ 18 Iyar, 5772
Have a seat . . . if you dare
By Celia Rivenbark
The more I hang out in public restrooms the more obvious it becomes that only a man could've designed those toilet seat covers that are found mounted to the back wall of ladies' room stalls.
It should be noted that I'm talking the regular seat protectors, not those nutty plastic things that roll around like a steering wheel electronically. I get the intention but they never work. Ever.
Why is this so hard to get right? Why must it be such a god-awful ordeal to protect yourself from diseases and, if you believe Aunt Verlie, unwanted pregnancy?
If you're a woman, you know what I'm talking about…
REAL LIFE INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO USE A SEAT PROTECTOR IN A PUBLIC LADIES ROOM…
Step 1: Enter rest room, realize purse hook is missing and door lock doesn't work. Hang purse around neck rather than placing on floor where STDs lurk. Locate seat protector dispenser on wall behind toilet.
Step 2: Pull out seat protector. Discover that you have actually pulled out eight. Stuff extra seven protectors back into dispenser at odd angles. Sigh heavily. Realize that purse around neck just grazed toilet bowl water; curse loudly.
Step 3: Endure highhanded lecture from mother of toddler in next stall about use of profanity in front of children. Cheerily tell her to "@#$! off" and resume dealing with toilet seat protector.
Step 4: Hold tissue-thin seat protector at eye level to observe perforations. Attempt to "punch out" center hole only to discover perforations are apparently "faux" perforations and actually not perforations at all.
Step 5: Crumple and discard first attempt. Try again with second seat protector, and third, and fourth. Wipe sweat from perimenopausal brow with handily absorbent fifth seat protector. Winning!
Step 6: Give up and simply lay seat protector on the seat while manually punching out center "hole" swinging purse like ax as needed.
Step 7: Finally seated, protector in place, realize, too late, that you have completely missed the open hole in the center and now pee is trying to physically find its way back into your body.
Step 8: Marvel at how astronauts do this sort of thing in zero gravity. Imagine they don't do it with a purse slung around neck like world's largest goiter. Wusses.
Step 9: Give up, clean up, and use foot to coax soggy seat protector down into bowl. Realize that it is hopelessly stuck to shoe.
Step 10: Using hands, remove wet seat protector from shoe for, while icky, realize it will be far less embarrassing than trailing seat protector on shoe through Sbarro and past Chick-Fil-A sample lady.
Step 11: Emerge from stall and check reflection in mirror. Great. Tear-stained hag with blouse askew and purse with strange blue tint on the bottom.
Step 12: Wash hands for a very long time. Give sisterly smile to woman stepping into rest room. Hear her curse.