Greetings Weary Man-Traveler, Recite this Ancient Rhyme to Reveal the Fabled Couch in the Ladies Restroom

Written by our ancient sisters!

Every bit as luxurious and sensual as you would imagine.

Virile and deeply sexy adventurer — it is clear from your furrowed brow and cross-body bag adorned with not one, but TWO Pickle Rick novelty pins, that you have traveled far and wide in search of the legend that lies behind this door. You have no doubt heard for many years the stories of the fabled sofa that mysteriously eludes your own restrooms but graciously dwells in our own. You are more than welcome to attempt to conjure this seating to bear witness with your own eyes. But first, you must bravely and wholeheartedly recite the ‘Rhyme of Recline’, written by the ancient sisters of long ago to protect and preserve our greatest secret treasure. For we are women. Virginal, soft, and in constant need of spaces for lounging — for womanly fainting across velvet couches and settees, with one renaissance-worthy breast strategically pulled from the stifling confines of a gauzy robe.

So come.

We beckon.

Reveal our secrets. Recite our words. Uncover the mythic couch that resides in any and all of our restrooms:

The seat of comfort, be it here?

Hair pins, lipstick, and stockings sheer.

Empty stalls line the walls, for instead we sit

Ruffled cushions, pleated pillows, no scent of shit.

Every sweet siren has her own song

In safety she sings, no fear of dongs.

Sofa, chaise, a loveseat or two

No pee-splattered seats or stray streaks of poo.

Overflowing with peace, this room brings such rest

Chiffon gowns, lace sleeves, a pert heaving breast!

Oh how we’re dainty, and oh how we’re fair

Upon our dear floors, no stray pubic hairs.

Clean tiled walls and sinks of glass

How do we “go”? we won’t tell, we have too much CLASS!

Young and soft we recline, and oh with such ease

Open the door, see our couch! Come and sit if you please.

Unmatched femininity is our famed calling card

Doe-eyed and dainty, being a man seems quite hard!

Understand, dear traveler, and please listen well

Men don’t oft seek return to their own putrid hell.

Bare butts, stale farts, and urinals abound —

And no place to sit! A den for hellhounds.

So join us in here, for your heart we will mend.

See our couch, it is real! Why would we pretend?

Lauren Zmirich is a comedy writer and cheesesteak connoisseur. You can follow her on Twitter & Instagram to see her work through some issues by way of some deeply dumb jokes.