Monday, November 27, 2006

two things I would like back

My time spent in the line for the bathroom and money spent on pantyhose.

Pantyhose. God lord what a waste of money and a reason to cause a fire between my thighs these things are. For these two reasons I no longer wear pantyhose. Waste of money. Put them on, get a run. Put them on, get a run. Repeat until you die or refuse to ever wear a pair again.
$12 pair of black silk thigh-highs. Slip one on, get it up to my thigh annnnddd...fucking 'A, you have got to be kidding me. Silk. $12. Thigh-highs. Ran one. Just one. The outfit will not have the desired effect. Sure, it will still have the desired outcome, but not the point.

Time spent waiting for the bathroom.
Guys have no idea. Well, maybe they do because as a result of their evolutionary development of: stand, pee, don't look left, don't look right, shake, flush, wash hands, dry hands, recontaminate hands on the door handle as they leave. They have to wait for us who, because of our refusal to learn evolution in how to pee quickly; stand in line outside the bathroom. Make new friends. Wait in line inside the bathroom. Compliment the new friend. Laugh about something that you both find utterly ridiculous and yet totally hilarious. Go into stall. Look at the seat. Wipe the seat. Put a layer of toilet paper down on the seat. Pee. Because of the ability to sit while I pee, ponder life's bigger problems. Wipe. Flush. Adjust boobs. Wash hands to a full lather. Dry hands. Comb hair. Fluff hair. Reapply lip gloss. Compliment someone on something. Look at my ass. Check outfit. Look at my boobs. Check out the other women in the bathroom. Fluff hair again. Check teeth. Catch reflection one more time. Leave bathroom. Try to not touch the door handle on my way out of the bathroom to totally contaminate my hands with the germs that have yet to reach their full third eye gill to land potential. Meet the man waiting for me outside the bathroom. Smile at said man and apologize for the wait, but not really be sorry at all.

I'll be honest. I really just want all the money back that I've wasted on hose. I enjoy making new friends.


Bre said...

I, for one, would like the black thigh high that was lost somewhere between the bar and my house. Hopefully THAT'S not run, like your hose!

Party Girl said...

Wow. Guessin' there's a story there.

I would like to add: pantyhose, hate 'em.

Tights, fishnets, anything not made from nylon: love 'em.

I have on a pair of black fishnets, today.

HST said...

I have taken an almost exclusive thigh high and garter belt rule. I hate when the crotch of my pantyhose is like down at my knees. Sure somedays it's like being a contortionist to get the garter closed on the back but it's more than worth it when I don't have to stretch those fuckers over my upper thigh after peeing, i just pull the garter belt up and i'm good. AMEN:)

Party Girl said...

HST: Yes, amen to garters.

JJ said...

I knew it! About the standing in line thing, I mean. I've never really understood the hose thing. They just seem like the modern equivalent of the corset.

limpy99 said...

Wait, what's all this about washing hands after we pee?

Jay said...

Tights, fishnets, thigh-highs... all good.

I myself have worn pantyhose a time or two and I never understood why women do it. Heaven forbid if you have to pee! Even as a man I had a hard time with it!

TrappedInColorado said...

I love to walk by the bathrooms as someone is leaving the women's room. Why? Just for the reasons you mentioned. Nothing sexier than watching a woman make sure she is sexy. You forgot to mention making sure the thigh highs have not slipped down a quarter inch which involves raising the skirt.. ahhhhhhhhh..

Party Girl said...

JJ: hose are to women as a tie is to a man.
Truly, what's the point?

Limpy: Ew.

Jay: Ugh. having to pee and wearing hose.
If I've managed to make it through X amount of my day without a run it will happen after I pee and I go to pull up my hose.
Every. Freakin'. Time.

Why women carry hairspray and clear nail polish with them: it's not to look pretty. It's to stop a run.
Oh, and that's fun when I forget about the clear nail polish and hairspray shalacked to my thigh and go to rip the fiery layer of nylon death from my body.

Trapped: You're dirty. Me likey.

GirlGoyle said...

OH...and don't forget that wearing hoes does actually increase the time spent in bathroom by quite a bit. Cuz after you wipe seat and create sitting nest with toilet paper, and just before you sit to contemplate life you have to be-very-careful-in -removing-said hoes that up until that point you MAY have managed to put on without running. If not careful....then expect exclamation of "fuck'n A!" to permeate through public restrooms.

Old Man Crowder said...

This has to be one of my favourite conversations from this site. I knew I liked coming here for a reason.

Hose and hoes!

Jay? Care to elaborate on your hose experience? I didn't think flying nuns needed such amenities.

Old Man Crowder said...

Oh, and the two things I'D like back... Your left stocking and your right one.