After days of mildly ridiculing the toilet paper hoarders and priding myself on not freaking out and racing out to buy bath tissue…
I fucking ran out of toilet paper.
I was literally sitting on the pot and scrolling through Facebook, marveling over multiple photos of empty t.p. aisles in local stores, thinking ominously, “It has arrived,” when I realized that I was about to use my very last bit of Charmin Ultra Soft.
I drove into town thinking about my options if buying toilet paper wasn’t going to be one.
Years ago my friends, R & C, who were true first-rate dirtbag climbers, used the pages of the phone book instead of actually paying for t.p. They also brought Outward Bound powdered hummus that tasted like the bottom of a wet backpack, to every potluck they attended. We didn’t have indoor plumbing at the time so they occasionally let us come by and get cleaned up. The yellow pages felt luxurious on our frozen asses.
This morning I figured that I was going to have to come up with a contingency plan; I didn’t think there was a prayer in the world that any store in our town would have toilet paper, kleenex, or even paper towels.
But sure enough, The grocery store had just gotten a delivery this morning and there were a few packages left. “They’ll be gone by the end of the day.”
There were 7 packs of 6 rolls each on the shelf, right at eye level. I stood, staring, trying to decide if I was going to buy just one 6-pack…or more.
On the one hand, I felt that I owed it to my community to not be greedy. I am, after all, “not buying into the frenzy.”
On the other hand, what if I run out again and I’m not this lucky. What if this actually is the apocalypse?
And, I realized that I do not actually have a phone book.
Guilt and fear of karmic ridicule kept me in check.
Practicality had me sneaking out of the store with a package under each arm.
someone told me today that when old cranky people die of this thing, they come back as even crankier zombies
and beware, these zombies eat toilet paper