Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now...

Dieting and public restrooms. Now how can those possibly coincide? Well they don't. That's just it. I've been trying to "diet" so to speak, nothing drastic, just more water and fruit and all that jazz. I have to say, if you drink the water the experts recommend, you gotta go......and go........and go. The story of my life lately can be told in the restroom. Ugh. And if you go out of the house, you're at the mercy of the dreaded public restroom. I gotta say, I have a small phobia of these places. Everytime I open the door to a public facility, I hear the Jaws theme song playing faintly in the distance. I mean I know there's a lot of "traffic" in and out of these places every day, but really, couldn't they send in the forces more than once a week to mop, sanitize, unclog toilets and the like? There is nothing worse than having to pee so bad and having all the stalls full except that one that got clogged a month ago and has flies swarming around it. So you stand there doing the pee pee dance, hearing that stupid commerical "gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now....." play in your head. Ahhhhhhh! So you stand there and cough, so that the ladies in the other stalls will know you're there waiting. As if your tap dancing hadn't alerted them. Then you let out a heavy SIGHHHHHHH, as to impart the urgency. Let's get a move on ladies!! Come on! And then finally, one opens up and you about knock the poor soul down to get in there and do a very precise squat/hover over the germ infested toilet. Ahhhhhhhhhh yes, there we go. Whew. Now that spells relief. And don't you love their toilet paper? You have to take the whole roll and wad it up, because it is the thinnest most non absorbent paper substance they could come up with. This might be why the toilets clog so frequently. Ladies need Cottonelle people! We're not built with the equipment that you can just hang, shake and go. And now it's time to flush. So you lift your foot up while propping yourself with your elbow against the side of the stall so you won't fall in. You push the lever and a violent WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH lets you know that it's time to go. Then you go to wash your hands, in this God forsaken "sink" that no water comes out of. But you didn't figure that out until you pushed the sudser and got your hands nice and gooey. So now you move over to the next sink praying it works. And with a lot of enginuity and upper arm strength, you push and pry the lever until it spits out a trickle of water. Just enough to lather with. Now you have a nice lather going, but can't get sink #2 to work. And as luck would have it, there is no sink #3. Hmmmmm. Meanwhile other ladies are moving in and out, with the same frustration, and some not even trying. Can we all make a collective GAG? Oh Lord. Now I not only have to think about my own hands, but those of whom just vacated without proper hand washing techniques. Okay, so I struggle to put that out of my mind and not go into violent shudders, while moving back to sink #1. Sink #1 is not cooperating so I have no other option but to towel dry the lather off my hands so that I can move on with my life. Normally when I am not gulping down my daily recommended dosage of H2O, I can go about my outtings without such plight. However, this is my story, my plight, and my phobia, as it stand right now.