mmichaelm: Once a friend and I were sitting in a club chatting with a couple ladies. After a while the ladies looked at each other and nodded and both got up to go to the restroom together. After they left, my friend turned to me and asked the question that all men often wonder about..."Why do women always go to the restroom together? What do you suppose they are talking about in there?"
I thought for a second and replied, "They're probably in there laughing their asses off at us." "Seriously, I don't know, man", I continued. "I think its like a secret society ritual or something. If they tell us, they'd probably have to kill us."
But, here we are among friends...so ladies, why do you do that and what do you really talk about in there??
cherrybrandycambridge, Cambridgeshire, England UK7,473 posts
Once a friend and I were sitting in a club chatting with a couple ladies. After a while the ladies looked at each other and nodded and both got up to go to the restroom together. After they left, my friend turned to me and asked the question that all men often wonder about..."Why do women always go to the restroom together? What do you suppose they are talking about in there?"
I thought for a second and replied, "They're probably in there laughing their asses off at us." "Seriously, I don't know, man", I continued. "I think its like a secret society ritual or something. If they tell us, they'd probably have to kill us."
But, here we are among friends...so ladies, why do you do that and what do you really talk about in there??[/quot
leostartingoverSandton, Gauteng South Africa1,685 posts
I usually go alone, but sometimes when we're enjoying ourselves we forget that we need to go to the loo, and hold it in for ages.... When a friend mentions she is going, it reminds us and we get up to go too! Another reason is if we want to get our friend's opinion of the guy/s we're chatting to... If we really didn't like you, we wouldn't come back (have done that before with a blind date when I was a LOT younger)!!!!!
When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the cubicle. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!) down with your pants and assume ' The Stance'. In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to lay toilet paper on it, you hold 'The Stance.'
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Dear, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your bag (the bag around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time).
That would have to do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your bag topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get'.
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water that covers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a sweet wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it?) You yank the paper from your shoe, plonk it in the woman's hand, and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's toilet. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck?"
leostartingoverSandton, Gauteng South Africa1,685 posts
gabrielle95: For moral support, when this happens:
When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied.
.............
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's toilet. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck?"
The joys of women's public toilets!!! My absolute worst experience was in Bali in a store in Kutar. I had to make a sudden dash for the loo after eating a mostly vegetarian diet (having seen a big fat dead pig rolling around on the back of a truck on it's way to a religious ceremony)... No loo paper, no water in the hose, just a bucket of water with all sorts of flotsam floating in it... Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!
I genuinely do not really care (with the greatest respect and affection).
It makes them who they are and lets face it chaps we secretly love them to bits for it. Especially seeing as they are passing the bar on the way back and can get a round in (and i'm father christmas lol). Without their little secrets (and ours) we'd know everything and the game of love would be boring. Embrace our differences is what i say
Aug 3, 2010 1:56 PM CST Men Have Always Wanted to Know the Answer to this Question..
PrettyuptowngirlBryanston, Gauteng South Africa228 Posts
PrettyuptowngirlBryanston, Gauteng South Africa228 posts
Top secret, who wants the mafia after us if we divulge this info, so sorry boys cant do .... But have another drink while we in there, as you never know what we may surprise you with
mmichaelm: Once a friend and I were sitting in a club chatting with a couple ladies. After a while the ladies looked at each other and nodded and both got up to go to the restroom together. After they left, my friend turned to me and asked the question that all men often wonder about..."Why do women always go to the restroom together? What do you suppose they are talking about in there?"
I thought for a second and replied, "They're probably in there laughing their asses off at us." "Seriously, I don't know, man", I continued. "I think its like a secret society ritual or something. If they tell us, they'd probably have to kill us."
But, here we are among friends...so ladies, why do you do that and what do you really talk about in there??
you're missing the point mike, women dont go together to talk or to do some secret ritual... The real reason is that women are jealous of each other and don't trust each other so they feel safer to take their rivals to the restroom with them were they can keep an eye on them rather than leaving them behind and risk it!!
zeus911: you're missing the point mike, women dont go together to talk or to do some secret ritual... The real reason is that women are jealous of each other and don't trust each other so they feel safer to take their rivals to the restroom with them were they can keep an eye on them rather than leaving them behind and risk it!!
zeus911: you're missing the point mike, women dont go together to talk or to do some secret ritual... The real reason is that women are jealous of each other and don't trust each other so they feel safer to take their rivals to the restroom with them were they can keep an eye on them rather than leaving them behind and risk it!!
LOL..is that it? Well what about the reverse of that? I mean, what do you think would happen if I turned to my friend and said..."Bill, let's go to the restroom."... a punch in the face..that's what would happen.
joyannieA little closer to heaven, Colorado USA408 posts
gabrielle95: For moral support, when this happens:
When you have to visit a public toilet, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the cubicle. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' (invented by someone's Mum, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook, if there was one, so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mum would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!) down with your pants and assume ' The Stance'. In this position, your aging, toneless, thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but having not taken time to wipe the seat or to lay toilet paper on it, you hold 'The Stance.'
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, 'Dear, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your bag (the bag around your neck, that now you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time).
That would have to do, so you crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your bag, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your bag topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, while losing your footing altogether and sliding down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get'.
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl and spraying a fine mist of water that covers your bum and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force and you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too. At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a sweet wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the taps with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it?) You yank the paper from your shoe, plonk it in the woman's hand, and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's toilet. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long and why is your bag hanging around your neck?"
Funny! Thanks for sharing.
As for me, OP.. wild horses couldn't drag it out of me!
You all have it 100% wrong. It's really not about what happens when we're IN the bathroom (or loo or whatever you call it)....it's about GOING to the bathroom.
There is something innate in us, as women, to look after each other (unless we totally despise one another). And sometimes, the walk to a bathroom...alone...leaves us a bit vulnerable. It is something that we have developed over time, not something we think about, but any time a woman walks alone (likely past a group of men or a couple of men, at least), we feel a bit vulnerable.
It's not about BEING in the bathroom together...it's about the walk there.
Some may say I'm wrong, but I sincerely believe what I said.
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Besides,it makes them wonder what
we CAN do to them.