The Ladies Room, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the female latrine. Our five hour mission: to explore popular topics of gossip, to seek out relief from bladder pressure and the people annoying us wherever we may be, to boldly go where no man has gone before (except when we need their strength to use the toilet plunger).As I understand it, there seems to be some “mystery” surrounding the bathroom habits of modern females. I say modern because I refuse to contemplate anything having to deal with poop before we all had our own indoor plumbing. This “mystery” is according to guys and deals with mostly with why we go to the bathroom in groups of two or more and why we take so long. Personally, I don’t find it strange that I sometimes like to partake in group peeing. It’s not as though we all sit on one giant toilet and pee simultaneously.
Let me start with the basics. Females are biologically programmed (in our brains) to be the more social sex of the human race. I’m not sure if this actually has anything to do with our social hour pee time; I just thought I’d throw that out there. So while the male brain portion controlling sexual impulses is 2.5 times larger and thus consumes most male thoughts, we women are thinking “gee, we’d really love to chat right now and have some good old social interaction” a majority of the time. This seems to have spilled over into our bathroom habits.
Another thing to remember is that women have to pee a lot more than most men. I schedule pee time into my day. I know that after a certain amount of time I will have to go pee, no matter what, so I really hope there will be a bathroom that I can use wherever I may be (no, I do not need to take medicine for this). When my sister recently consulted me about what time she should arrive at the airport I told her to have enough allotted amount of time to go pee before you get on the plane. No one enjoys peeing on planes; I’m still afraid that when you flush the toilet you’ll get sucked right out of the plane at 35,000 feet, never mind how tiny those things are.
According to my scientific research mentioned above, when you combine the social nature and physical makeup of the female bladder you get the abnormally long group trips to the bathroom. The basics are simple, moving beyond and further in depth is not so simple. Now, about that, let me go pee real fast before I get into it . . . .
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4 comments:
All I know is that the ladies seem to get things like couches, fake plants in vases, and bad art on the walls of their bathrooms, while we have to make due with crude drawings of vaginas and poo smeared on the walls.
Also, I just assumed that women went to the can together so that they don't have to do lines of coke off of their own breasts... which I assume would cause bad neck cramps.
I like Lucy P. She does nice work.
I just hate when I'm out with a girl and a group of her friend that I don't know and she up and takes one of her friends up and takes all of the social feminine creatures, including my woman of choice, to the bathroom with her thus leaving me with 3 or 4 random guys with whom I have no desire to converse. So I'm stuck with five to 15 minutes of commenting on the merits of canine competitions, lite beer, and whatever sport is currently competing for a championship regardless of whether or not I've ever seen it. And that's if I'm lucky. If those guys happen to be financial analysts, republicans, or Venezuelan arms smugglers I'm positively done for.
So ladies, please hurry it up.
What gets me is not so much the fact that you all travel to the restroom en masse, it's the WAY you do it.
I've seen groups of women out in public who seem to be interacting normally - talking, laughing, general carousing - when suddenly, they just STOP COLD. Then they rise up as a unit, and march to the bathroom without even discussing it. It's almost like they don't even realize they're doing it, like they just got a radioed directive from the Mothership, or something. It reminds me of how creepy it is when entire flocks of birds change direction on a dime all at once, like they're all part of some sync'ed-up hive-mind.
Weird. Eerie.
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