Tuesday, December 22, 2015

The Curse of the Last Roll

We all have our lots in life. For some it is never winning a prize, for others it’s our ability to find a way to define clumsy. Sometimes we can feel like our lives are an analogy for Murphy’s Law.
My curse in life is always being the embarrassingly inept person who discovers the absence of toilet paper during large social gatherings and during a point in my business that requires outside assistance.
Most of us have experienced the horror of joyously completing our task only to discover the primary tool to complete our assignment is out of stock. I’m quite sure that our techy friends didn’t foresee this scenario in their determination to become a paperless society. We the paperless, are now only left with bad options. For the outgoing and socially unaware social pooper, the best option is the loud SOS “Hey we are of toilet paper!” announcement. This public service announcement is bold and courageous. The subtle yet wise pooper relies on technology. #out of paper need help smiley face. The downside to this option is that you now become known as the dreaded bathroom texter. The upside is that people will never want to borrow your phone. The slightly more daring yet foolish subtle pooper may opt for the SOS I’m out of toilet paper phone call. This often has the same outcome as the socially unaware social pooper as the phone calls recipient is rarely mature enough not to embarrass you by proclaiming your misfortune to the general public and to their Instagram posse. The huge drawback is that your social status is now reduced to one step above the criminally insane because from this point forward you will hence forth be known as a Going To the Bathroom Talker. The last bad option to become the stealthy pooper. This requires a high degree of physical uncomfortableness as you squeeze and walk in search for the illusive stash of paper. Even the Agnostic’s prays during this awkward dance. “Lord please may no one see me walking like a penguin who just drank a double shot of espresso.”
For those of us who have been afflicted by “The Curse of The Last Roll.” We unite together and demand to know “who is the heartless soul who takes the last sheet and walks away without a care for your fellow man?” Your paperless snare prays on the innocent and unexpected. The furry of your cruel carelessness has reaped a class of the socially shunned. Your selfishness turns the quite serene of peaceful bathroom time into the horror and stress of the paperless.
My wise words of advice for you is to remember ”if you take the last sheet, replace before someone uses the seat!”