Saturday, March 9, 2013

Toilet Paper

This morning, as I was sitting there, I realized that there is something wonderful about a fresh new roll of toilet paper, just installed. No really! Think about it. A new beginning. A fresh start. A rebirth? Clean, crisp, full. White. 1,000 sheets. Preferably wrapped in an individual paper wrapper. Pristine. Pure. White. Useful and ready to go. Dispensing up and over the roll so as to be more sanitary for the next person, especially if you are the next person. The sound it makes as you roll off those first few sheets. The fullness of the roll reassuring you that you will not want. It doesn’t matter that the sheets may or may not tear at the perforations. It doesn’t matter whether you fold, fan, or bunch. What matters is the satisfaction of knowing that your needs will be met.

In Mexico, outside of a public toilet at the beach, a little old lady, and I mean wrinkled and little and old ancient lady sits at a table with little piles of newspaper, cut into four inch squares, for sale ... 1 peso a pile. Just think what she could do with a fresh roll of toilet paper.

In Chicago, in a booth you are occupying at the department store, just think how reassuring it would be to have a fresh, personal roll of toilet paper, wrapped or unwrapped, when on finishing up you realize that there is an empty dispenser on the wall to your right.

In Italy, squatting over a hole in the floor at the train station (hearing the train’s whistle approach from a distance) think how delighted you would be to have a roll of the soft, silky white stuff in your backpack rather than having to use the greenish, sandpaper like roll of stuff sitting on the floor next to the wall on which you are bracing yourself so as not fall into the toilet hole.

See what I mean. There IS something wonderful about a fresh new roll of toilet paper, just installed.

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