Tip #1
If you like to go thrifting, and your hunting and pecking takes you to the book section, which is just across from the public bathroom, take a deep breath about five minutes prior and hold it for the duration of your stay. In case of pass-out, be sure to wear a med alert bracelet requesting Do Not Resuscitate until your body is cleared from the bathroom fume dispersion zone.
If one of your children cannot wait an hour to visit another bathroom despite your threats of abandonment fervent and robust pleas, take previously-mentioned deep breath and hold hand over your eyes as you airlift your child into the restroom and hover them over the seat, all the time beseeching God that you or your children do not contract diphtheria with a dysentery chaser.
Do not contemplate opportunistic stray pubes that may have attached to your clothing or person.
And please, I beg you, don’t ever look at the plunger that rests plunge side up just outside the door.
Tip #2
If a man hurtles over the glazed Nativity set and Baby Jesus on special to reach you in the corner of yet another thrift store, do not look up. Fake a voluminous dysentery attack. Under no circumstances say hello. If you are in the least bit friendly or acknowledging of his presence, he will follow you around the store. He will look at the little pink shirt in your hand and say things like, “If your daughter is pretty like you, she’s lucky.”
Do not wonder why he finds you approachable as you look like a hobo. No DO wonder. It’s BECAUSE you look like a hobo. It is because he is a hobo and wants a hobo bride. Start talking crazy. No don’t! He likes that. He will wait by the exit until you leave. At this point, give Good Will employees desperate looks. Stop and look at the obsolete mini iPod crystal cases and do not think that this is probably the man who stunk up the bathroom in the other place.
Wait him out. Do not panic when his car (but isn’t he a hobo? what’s with the transportation? do not speculate that he is part of an elite hobo car crime syndicate/sex trafficker ring) is right behind yours as you leave. Do not think that he is scribbling down your license plate number. Do not call your dad who lives 200 miles away and tell him that a hobo is on your tail.
Lose the hobo in a frozen yogurt shop parking lot. Call your dad back. Encourage him to turn off the 405 Freeway and head back home.
It’s been a long day. Go ahead and order the full-fat peanut butter with chocolate chip cookie dough. Do not draw parallels between the chocolate chips and the plunger.
I said don’t.
deb, i love your pieces of advices. “stray pubes” made me LOL! and you need to do something about attracting the hobo/stalker types. be firm? say, “GET THE FUCK AWAY!”
i’m doing all of my xmas shopping on mon and tues next week and it’s going to be fun, that’s for sure. will be sure and keep you apprised of any hobo/stalker types so that we can trade stories. ;)
Someone will make him a lovely hobo bride, I’m sure. I’m just glad it won’t be you!
And thank you for the advices. It’s been a while since I had to suspend a child over a toilet seat, but my own balancing act is a feat of its own.
I read somewhere that urine on a toilet seat is really not harmful to a person. Uhm, o k a y…. but still, just wanted to let you know ;P
omg Thank God for whackos who give us great blog fodder…
Never to old to learn stuff, I guess. Thanks! I had never really thought about those things. Now I’ll know what to do! : )
Please tell me you were wearing shoes in the bathroom. You never know what could happen to your toe. And? I’m really sorry about the stalking hobo. He was probably one of my relatives on my father’s side.
I am taking very shallow breaths right now. Luckily if I pass out, I have a fine non-hobo pool boy of a husband to catch me. Whew.
So sorry your smart thrifting idea turned out kinda creepy.
Ummm. Eww.
Some people have all the luck. No one ever tries to pick me up at the thrift store.
This is a timely discussion for me as I just got home from dinner with friends who recently traveled to China. Apparently all public toilets in China are holes with porcelain over them. Not even as good as a Porta-Potty. Suddenly I feel much better about not having the money to travel to China.
Well I’m certainly ready for Xmas!
My carefully composed comments follow:
Re #1 – “Ewwww.”
Re #2 – It’s odd. The phrase, “If your daughter is pretty like you, she’s lucky” disgusts me more than the pube on the public toilet (I hate public toilets, have trained myself to lift seats, lower seats, and flush with my foot; hover above seat rather than touch flesh to the porcelain – but I digress….). If I admired the looks of a woman – not that I ever would – I just can’t imagine thinking of her daughter at the same time. I mean, why would someone be looking at a woman and thinking about whether she has a daughter.
“Ewwwww. Ewwww. Ewwww.”
Of course, now that I’m writing this, I’m thinking about a very bizarre experience that I once had. NO! Get your minds out of the gutter, it’s not THAT!! But it’s sorta close…. (?@$&%*!!)
Note to self: There is a perfectly good reason you don’t shop in thrift shops. See post by SDMomma and never, ever darken the door of one again. Now, I think I’ll go shower in Lysol. Just reading that makes me feel like I have cooties. YEEECH. LOL
I don’t think it’s just thrift stores with bad bathrooms. Seems to me that every bookstore I’ve ever been in (Borders, B&N, Walden, etc) have all had stinky potties.
I just carry a big can of Lysol with me. Which, incidently, also works for spraying at hobos who get too close.
Good lord woman where were you? I was just about to have a cookie. A chocolate chip cookie. And now I can’t. Good thing I baked seven other kinds or I’d be mat at you right now! ;^)
Thanks for the tips. Won’t work this side of the pond because we don’t have frozen yogurt shops.
Funny stuff! I love how your mind works – all crazy like that – mind came from the same factory mold.
OMG, Deb! This is hilarious and brilliant. Your mind is a thing of terrifying (and slightly nauseating) beauty.