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<blockquote data-quote="Brimshack" data-source="post: 3225501" data-attributes="member: 34694"><p><strong>More than you wanted to know.</strong></p><p></p><p>True Restroom Hell (with traces of greek mythology, no less)...</p><p></p><p>Have you ever had one of those emergencies where you swear any moment you are going to cross over into a threshold of public humiliation the likes of which you've never experienced before? The kind of moment where you swear you won't make it at all?</p><p></p><p>I was driving cross country and suddenly had to find the nearest restroom I could. I had to drive another 20 miles after the initial moment of panic, and then I found one located in a separate building about a hundred feet from a gas station and convenience store. This convenience store was the only one for about 10 miles and the on-off ramp took a bit of time too. </p><p></p><p>I pulled in found the restoom and rushed towards it, really worried that I might not manage the 50' walt to the toilet. It was like that moment in Transpotters where he suddenly has to use the nearest facility available, no matter what. At such moments, you can hope but you know you will actually use the most disgusting rat-hole if that's what's there, because you just don't have a choice. </p><p></p><p>I wondered a bit why there was a lady and her husband standing outside the building, and it really looked like SHE was the one waiting to go in the men's room. But at that moment, I just don't care. I worry that maybe someone is in there.</p><p></p><p>I rush in to find the most beautiful, sparkling clean facility I have ever seen. I mean one would hope the men's room in heaven will be so well kept. It was gorgeous and I was so relieved. It was like hitting the lottery; it was empty; it was beautiful; and it was all MINE. As I head into the stall and see how wonderfully clean it is, the station attendant comes in...</p><p></p><p>...he proceeds to tell me that the restroom is closed for the moment as he hasn't finished cleaning it; he needs to get some toilet paper. There are others in line ahead of me too, he says, and I have to come back out. Now, I am staring right down at a clean roll of toilet paper as he speaks, and I mean it was perfect. It was about 2/3rds full and it was clean and fluffy, just like you would hope to have at home. Heck, it looked like something Madonna would be proud to place next to her toilet, or perhaps a shiek would set next to his golden throne. But this guy demands that I exit the facility and wait for him to restock the paper. So, I come out, pass the lady and her husband and find the women's restroom is also closed. (Yes, I could see it coming.) I check anyway, and this one really is out of toilet paper. It's just been cleaned, but the paper has not been restocked.</p><p></p><p>The guy heads off towards the main building, leaving myself and the couple to wait for him. I am in agony. The woman it turns out is also in dire straights and she delays the man to ask him about other facilities in the area. He tells her how far it is to the next gas station and lectures her on the need to wait, taking his sweet time about it. I mean, he is really taking his time about it, not as in thinking it through, just pausing for effect and making sure she realizes that he is serious. No-one is to enter the facility until he is done. </p><p></p><p>He then disappears into the main building at a perfectly casual pace. We wait...</p><p></p><p>And I stand there having seen heaven, or at least my vision of heaven at that particular moment and wonder where the hell that guy went. I thank the non-existent gods for every moment I manage to avert disaster while the woman and her husband discuss the prospect of making it to the next gass station. I know I won't make it if I have to wait for the guy to get back and then for her to do her thing, and I weigh the prospects of begging ahead of the woman who is obviously worried about exactly the same thing herself. Discretion aside, there is only one sit down toilet, and both of us are doing the still-footed-clench-and-hope dance. Where is that guy? She's stressed. I'm stressed, and the restroom Nazi is nowhere to be seen.</p><p></p><p>We wait...</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Brimshack, post: 3225501, member: 34694"] [b]More than you wanted to know.[/b] True Restroom Hell (with traces of greek mythology, no less)... Have you ever had one of those emergencies where you swear any moment you are going to cross over into a threshold of public humiliation the likes of which you've never experienced before? The kind of moment where you swear you won't make it at all? I was driving cross country and suddenly had to find the nearest restroom I could. I had to drive another 20 miles after the initial moment of panic, and then I found one located in a separate building about a hundred feet from a gas station and convenience store. This convenience store was the only one for about 10 miles and the on-off ramp took a bit of time too. I pulled in found the restoom and rushed towards it, really worried that I might not manage the 50' walt to the toilet. It was like that moment in Transpotters where he suddenly has to use the nearest facility available, no matter what. At such moments, you can hope but you know you will actually use the most disgusting rat-hole if that's what's there, because you just don't have a choice. I wondered a bit why there was a lady and her husband standing outside the building, and it really looked like SHE was the one waiting to go in the men's room. But at that moment, I just don't care. I worry that maybe someone is in there. I rush in to find the most beautiful, sparkling clean facility I have ever seen. I mean one would hope the men's room in heaven will be so well kept. It was gorgeous and I was so relieved. It was like hitting the lottery; it was empty; it was beautiful; and it was all MINE. As I head into the stall and see how wonderfully clean it is, the station attendant comes in... ...he proceeds to tell me that the restroom is closed for the moment as he hasn't finished cleaning it; he needs to get some toilet paper. There are others in line ahead of me too, he says, and I have to come back out. Now, I am staring right down at a clean roll of toilet paper as he speaks, and I mean it was perfect. It was about 2/3rds full and it was clean and fluffy, just like you would hope to have at home. Heck, it looked like something Madonna would be proud to place next to her toilet, or perhaps a shiek would set next to his golden throne. But this guy demands that I exit the facility and wait for him to restock the paper. So, I come out, pass the lady and her husband and find the women's restroom is also closed. (Yes, I could see it coming.) I check anyway, and this one really is out of toilet paper. It's just been cleaned, but the paper has not been restocked. The guy heads off towards the main building, leaving myself and the couple to wait for him. I am in agony. The woman it turns out is also in dire straights and she delays the man to ask him about other facilities in the area. He tells her how far it is to the next gas station and lectures her on the need to wait, taking his sweet time about it. I mean, he is really taking his time about it, not as in thinking it through, just pausing for effect and making sure she realizes that he is serious. No-one is to enter the facility until he is done. He then disappears into the main building at a perfectly casual pace. We wait... And I stand there having seen heaven, or at least my vision of heaven at that particular moment and wonder where the hell that guy went. I thank the non-existent gods for every moment I manage to avert disaster while the woman and her husband discuss the prospect of making it to the next gass station. I know I won't make it if I have to wait for the guy to get back and then for her to do her thing, and I weigh the prospects of begging ahead of the woman who is obviously worried about exactly the same thing herself. Discretion aside, there is only one sit down toilet, and both of us are doing the still-footed-clench-and-hope dance. Where is that guy? She's stressed. I'm stressed, and the restroom Nazi is nowhere to be seen. We wait... [/QUOTE]
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