toilet seats while on travel, or, my adventures in hovering

If you're headed to BLOGHERNOT '08, hitting the highway headed for the Women's Colony, I know you're amped up on Starbucks and dietCoke. Most of BLOGHERNOTS ain't flying the private jet, if ya know what I mean -- bathroom in the back with an attendant to freshen the soap. So, once you round up your local Doogs and fire up the minivan, it's not gonna be too long 'till you're gonna have to pee. Please remember what your mama taught you in the rest stop outside of Des Moines: maintain your standards and keep a safe distance between your lady privates and those nasty public bathrooms you're bound to encounter along the way.

Step One.
Find a place that looks respectable and decent.
But, don't overlook the possibility that a biker bar may be a good place to pee. That joint serving up a good burger might just have that clean potty you're looking for. And, the state sanctioned rest area off the side of the road that looks really busy? Could it be a pit toilet. PIT. Toilet? Ewwwww.

Step Two
Do not mistakenly enter the men's room. OUR room will have one of the following words printed prominently on, next to, or above the door: Women. Girls. Gals. Ladies. Cowgirls. Senoritas. Frauleins. Bitch on the Back. The International Symbol for Female.

If you have found yourself in the men's room, you might see something like this:

Note that the floor at the base of the toilet is being eaten away by all the mistakes those men have been making. You know, the kind of mistake your 4-year old makes because he can't aim his teeny tiny John Thomas? Eh yup. Same problem when you're 25, and you just slugged down your 6th shot of Jagermeister in 30 minutes.

Unlike women, apparently men need primers on how to complete the reason they came in here in the first place. Again, and I cannot stress this enough, if you see something like this when you enter a public facility, you are in the WRONG ROOM. Get out. NOW.

Here's the Cowgirl's room at the biker bar I chose for our illustration. See how clean it is? It is very, very clean. Not decorated in an uber-Kohler decor (let's not get all House Beautiful about where we're gonna pee now, okay?), but it is clean clean clean. And, because it was so clean clean clean, I asked, and this biker bar is owned by a woman, and she keeps it the way the sisterhood wants it. Cuh-leen. Yea women who own biker bars!

Step Three
Upon entering the stall (and, by the way, STALL? Ug. Have you ever happened upon one of those very European not-really-a-stall where the walls go from the floor to the ceiling and have a proper closing door with a deadbolt and not just a piece of Formica hanging from a rickety hinge with just a slide latch keeping your dainties to yourself? Can I hear an AMEN on getting a law passed about this???), take inventory.



Tiny wastebasket? Check. You will need this if you plan to dispose of anything that isn't flushable. You know what I mean, and I'm not talking Big Mac wrappers here ladies. You're not in the Boundary Waters, so you will not want to be packing that out with you when you leave the premises.

Toilet tissue? Check and check again. If there isn't toilet tissue ... do not enter. I repeat, do NOT enter. Some of you sassy gals will travel with a pocket sized tissue holder like this or this, and if you have that in your very well organized and travel ready pocketbook, well then, go right in Miss Anal Retentive Road Warrior. If not and you find yourself alone in the bathroom and not able to ask your neighbor for a little wad to help you out (and your hand under the wall does not indicate your sexual preference, it simply indicates your preference to NOT drip dry), you will be wise to find a stall (there's that word again, Lordy please ... let's lobby for tiny privy rooms) that has an ample supply of toilet tissue.

Step Four
If you've completed your inventory, please proceed into the stall and close the door. Lock the door. If it has a lock. This can be an issue in public facilities. If there's no lock you may find yourself trying to take care of what you need to do while at the same time using one hand or God FORBID your foot to leverage the door against the unexpected entrance of someone who hasn't done the requisite "shoe check."

Step Five
If you happen upon a powder room that has perhaps NOT seen the scouring side of a toilet brush and heavy duty cleanser for a good long time, you're gonna want to follow along with the following pointers.

The following reenactment used a properly sanctioned and clean bathroom. No women were harmed in the making of this lesson.


Your mother taught you to never, ever, EVER Lord God in Heaven, sit down. No matter what studies show about the link between disease and toilet seats, your mother knew best and you'd be a ninny to start ignoring her mythic and legendary wisdom now, right? Did you clean that seat with your own Scrubbing Bubbles? No? Well, then. That thing is just plain nas-tay. Your delicate bottom needs protection, missy pants, and you do NOT know who has been here before you. Got it?

You have a choice here, though, because this IS America for goodness sake.

Your choice? Hover or Cover.

Hovering is an art. It is oft' learned while camping or on the roadside because you just can't hold it any longer and Mom is yelling at Dad that she's not cleaning up the seat so just stop the car already. Hovering requires that you are able to edge your tush over the open area of the seat, get your private business completed, and not get anything messy on yourself, your clothes or the floor. You may perhaps rest your elbows on your knees, sticking your butt WAAAAAAY back. Note of woman power: Hovering requires a higher degree of aim than our friends with their pesky y-chromosome, because, like the old joke about Ginger Rogers dancing in her high heels, we're aiming backwards.

Option two means you're going Cover. In other words, sit down. Put a paper bag over your mouth and stop hyperventilating, Martha. I said COVER. You'll be using one or another form of toilet seat condom to protect you. First of all, you can use toilet paper, pulled off in long strips and placed over any exposed plastic. But, hey, slow down. If that seat is wet? DO NOT SIT DOWN EVER EVER EVER. The toilet condom trick only works if that seat is dry as the Gobi Desert.

Now, if'n ya'll find yourself lucky enough to have one of these snazzy thangs in your own private personal STALL, forget the toilet paper. This is a toilet seat cover dispenser and it is your FRIEND.

Pull out one of the paper covers and place it on the seat. Isn't it the perfect shape and size? How nice.



Very carefully tear off the center bit so that it falls toward the water. If you do not do this -- and ladies my wisdom comes from personal experience -- you will pee on your legs. That paper is like Waxtex, and it'll carry your stream a mighty distance down the back of your shin.



Sit down and complete the reason you came all this way. Don't forget to flush. You're not a 13-year old boy, for mercy's sake.

By the miracle of modern physics, your paper toilet seat condom will be whisked away like so much cottonwood seed on a windy day. Bye bye! Now, if you've used the strips of toilet paper, you'll just have to toss them in the bowl and flush.



Any questions? Powerpoint print outs will be available on the table at the back in case you missed anything.

Finally, I'd like to thank Mommy Pie for the opportunity to present this seminar on being a safe and savvy traveller. We're on this road together, aren't we? Isn't that was the sisterhood is all about? Sharing our wisdom, helping each other out? I'm just really, really proud that I could contribute my little portion to help keep you safe along the way. Golly. I'm feeling just a teeny bit, sniff, teary at the tenderness we've shared. Do any of you have one of those tissue thingies?

For sure, it's a long ride to get there, but at BLOGHERNOT '08, the Woman's Colony bathrooms will be pristine so you won't have to worry about where you put your tushie. As Mrs. G. says herself,

"In the Women's Colony, bathrooms would be sanctuaries of solace and joy. No bathtub or toilet scrubbing or dealing with hairs whose origins are too disturbing to contemplate."

Amen, sister friends. Now climb in the minivan, and get on the road. BLOGHERNOT is waiting.

I'll save you a seat at the bar. No cover required.