It was a routine flight to Chicago, and everyone was relaxing into their seats and getting ready for the trip. One of them, a guy, started to sense the urgent pull of nature. With each passing minute, his discomfort increased, and he came to the conclusion that he needed to use the bathroom as soon as possible.
His anxious steps echoed impatiently on the plane’s floor as he made his way to the men’s room. Every time he tried to open the restroom door, much to his dismay, it was locked and in use by another traveler. His desperation increased as the minutes passed.
A kind stewardess noticed his plight and came over to him after recognizing the gravity of the circumstance. With the caveat that you pledge not to touch any of the buttons on the wall, she extended a lifeline: “I’ll let you use the ladies’ room.”
The man nodded completely, thankful for the alternative and relieved, and hurried into the ladies’ lavatory. He sat down on the toilet and focused on the urgent situation at hand. But then he noticed something: a row of buttons on the wall, each with the enigmatic characters “WW, WA, PP, and ATR.”
His intrigue nagged at him, tempting him to investigate the uncharted. The fascination of these mystery buttons was too much for him to resist. He reached out and depressed the “WW”-labeled first button with shaky fingers. His behind was immediately covered in warm water, and he couldn’t help but remark, “Wow, this is oddly wonderful. Women are incredibly strong.
He cautiously pressed the second button, marked “WA,” which called to him. His formerly sopping hindquarters were immediately dried by a soft wind of warm air that blew across him. He was so taken aback by the unanticipated luxury that he exclaimed, “Men’s rooms have nothing like this!”
A sizable powder puff descended from above as soon as he clicked the third button, “PP,” with his newly discovered courage. It lavishly covered his rear with a soft talcum powder that was applied with finesse.
However, the last button, marked “ATR,” beckoned to him like a siren’s song, begging him to learn what it held. He pressed it out of helplessness. Darkness suddenly engulfed him, and everything became completely dark.
Panic flooded his veins as soon as he came to in a hospital ward, where he eventually regained consciousness. He buzzed for the nurse frantically. She quickly ran to his side, maintaining a cool and professional demeanor.
What happened to me?! He stammered, wide-eyed and confused. I was in the restroom on an aircraft when I last remembered being there.
Yes, I’m quite aware, the nurse said matter-of-factly, with a trace of humor. Up until you pushed the “ATR” button, you were having quite the experience.
The man was perplexed and questioned, “ATR? What does it represent?
The nurse was unable to resist grinning. The acronym “ATR” stands for “Automatic Tampon Remover,” she explained.
As the man became aware of the function of the button he had unintentionally pressed, his face began to turn red. He had discovered the hard way that it’s sometimes wise to take someone’s advise, especially if they are coming from someone who should know better.