Tuesday, 17 September 2013

Gotta go!

This is going to be one of those posts that makes me glad that I haven't gone too public with my blog.  It isn't the sort of post that I would wish my work colleagues to read as they probably won't look at me the same way again (well, they already look at me a little strangely, but I think that's down to some of my other habits....).  You have been warned!  If you are easily shocked, then I warn you to LEAVE THIS PAGE RIGHT NOW!!   

Are you still here?  OK then, I will continue... 

To set the scene (and build up the story), let’s imagine that you have gone out for the day with your family to a family fun event, which has lots of entertainment – singing, dancing, juggling, comedy, etc, and stalls where you can buy exciting clothes, jewellery or ornaments that look great on the Bohemian types wandering around the event, but look pretty silly once you get home.  There are stalls where you can get every kind of food from the usual burgers and hot dogs to falafel and oriental noodles.  Or maybe you came prepared with a lovely picnic, that you brought in the cool box, complete with a bottle of wine that you drink out of plastic cups, sitting on your chequered rug.  It’s a lovely sunny day (you might have to try very hard with the imagination here…), and the children are frolicking happily with other children, the birds are singing (you can’t actually hear them above the racket from the stage, but still…), strange looking people are smoking strange smelling roll-ups, and the flowers are blooming all around…  Ahhhh, bliss!  And then… and then… you know you have to… your attempts not to drink too much were fruitless…there is no way you’re going to last another 2 hours or so until you get home… oh NO!! You have to use the communal toilets!! Aaaaaaaaaaaagghhhhhh!!!!  This is, of course, assuming that you are a female – if you are of the male species – and I don’t think I have any of that variety following my blog – then you won’t know what the fuss is all about (unless your requirement is for a longer visit…).  Anyway, having finally realised that you have to give in to your body’s most inconvenient call to the convenience, you make haste in the direction of the dreaded toilets.   There they are ahead, a row of little plastic huts, looming most unattractively, like little tardes (is that the plural of tardis, I wonder?) across the skyline.  You may have some luck if there are separate toilets for men and ladies – no guarantees of course, but you may be spared the sprinkler effect around the seat, walls, floor, sink and ceiling.  You have no choice (well, there is one, but would be even worse to deal with unless you are wearing some super strength incontinence pants).  With a sinking heart you take a deep breath in (to try and avoid the need to do this inside the little shack), and venture in.  Need I go on?  Suffice to say, there is no way that you are going to allow your delicate little bottom to make contact with that disgusting structure in front of you, so, you perform a careful reverse manoeuvre so that your nether regions are hovering about 8 inches above the receptacle, and attempt to let it all out.  Isn’t it strange how, even though your body is desperate, it really doesn’t want to let it out when you are in this awkward position?   OK, eventually you get going, and use your super-human powers to control the direction so it doesn’t spray over your clothes or your feet.  Of course, there is no toilet paper or soap, so better hope that you are prepared with some tissues and sanitiser!   
This is a scene which most of us can relate to, so wouldn't it be great if someone found a way to enable us girls to pee like blokes???!!!! - without the rotating fountain effect, of course).  Well, some clever person has invented a little device that enables us to do just that!  I had heard of these devices, however what prompted me to buy one was an article in Good Housekeeping (yes, really!), comparing a number of different models.  A bit different from their usual offering of comparing food mixers and pressure cookers...  Anyway, being just a little bit of a gadget buff, I had to buy one, so selected the GH recommended model which is called "The Whizz".   

I think I've waffled on enough for now, so will save my story about the test drive for another day.  Bet your DESPERATE to hear about it...

1 comment:

  1. He,he. All this is, of course, nothing new to me. I am an old (well, less old than you, ha!) veteran at hanging around the grubby, noisy, hippyish festival scene, You should try camping at one of these delightful places when it's pouring with rain, the field is a quagmire and those loos haven't been cleaned out for hours or even days! We've done it many a time, even when the kids were extremely diddy.. (I'm beginning to sound like that Monty Python sketch, 'You think you had it hard...')

    I saw the copy of GH that mentioned "The Whizz" but didn't part with my pennies for "every woman's essential item" (or even for the magazine, I snook a look at the article in a newsagents)... but maybe I should have succumbed, I could have done with one of these marvels (?) whilst on our last camping holiday (Kiln Park, Tenby) The loos were miles away! I will be interested to hear your (hopefully not TOO detailed) product review. Just give me a nudge when you've done it (the review!)....