The joy of public toilets

I'm limiting myself to women's toilets, because I don't know what goes on in the men's room.

Okay, girls, who among you is peeing on the toilet seats, and how do you manage it, given the limitations of anatomy?

And what is exactly the fun of festooning an entire roll of toilet paper around the stall?

And what's with not flushing? Trying to conserve water?

I've been meditating on public restrooms since the other day, when I found myself using one which had no toilet paper. Always prepared, I fished out a small pack of tissues from the bottom of my purse, where they had been since the Carter administration. Unfortunately, they had morphed back into their original form, that of wood pulp. A teeny tiny piece of plank.

As I attempted to rip this block of wood into some semblance of paper, I could hear muttering from the waiting line. (There is always a line at the women's room.) I finally found a pair of sales receipts and finished the job.

Next time I'll try to hold it until I get home.