B.Y.O.T.P.

     

Today I am taking a quick little road trip (5... 6... 7 hours, depending on traffic) with a guy that I've been friends with for the past nine years. (FYI- this is the same guy from the FWB post. You know, the one that I've been friends with forever but there has never been any romantic or sexual interest? Yeah, that one.) It should be interesting. While we're really good friends and can easily converse and frequently give each other shit for being, well, ourselves, we've never actually had to spend so much time together. Alone. In a car. Plus, we haven't seen each other since Christmas... for about five minutes. So, we'll see how this goes. Don't worry, I'll be sure to relay all the good nitty-gritty happenings. 

In the meantime, enjoy this post that I wrote on Tuesday (yes, I blogged ahead, again. Sue me):

In my house our bathrooms are B.Y.O.T.P. You know, Bring Your Own Toilet Paper? While I live with five six five other people, we never really nailed down a system for purchasing consumables (not in the sense that we eat it, but in the sense that it gets depleted by use. Other examples would be paper towels and dish soap). As a result, there are times when we don't have any toilet paper in the whole house. 

There are gloriously wonderful moments when toilet paper just magically appears in the bathrooms and no one knows how it gets there. I'm not sure how that happens, but I know I didn't put it there. I learned my lesson after the first time I picked up a package of good toilet paper. We ran through that shit in a matter of days. The next time I picked up t.p. I bought the cheap stuff. You know, the kind that feels like sand paper? And I rationed it too. I stored it in my bedroom and put a new roll in the bathroom only after a couple of days had gone by and I realized the magic t.p. wasn't going to appear.

One of my housemates used to steal toilet paper from one of the arts buildings on campus. She hasn't done this in awhile. Maybe the custodians are running low on supply. Who knows?

Any ways, I know from experience to always check ahead of time for an adequate supply of t.p. before I plop down on the pot. (Okay, to be honest, I don't always remember to do this. Like when I'm drunk.) We've all been in a situation where you realize too late that there's no paper on the roll, right? Embarrassing, right? I mean, what do you do at that point? While I've been in this situation more times than I'd like to admit, there was this one time when I felt like I'd hit an all time bathroom blunder low. The year was 2002. I was working as a purchasing clerk...

... at a company that manufactured the operating systems on train doors (if you've ever used a subway, you've used their operating systems). Or something like that. It just so happened that the restrooms were located out on the floor. If you don't know anything about manufacturing facilities, the floor is where shit is built, separate from the offices, which was super convenient, let me tell you. As you can imagine, the plant primarily employed men. Remember this tidbit for later. 

So, I headed to the bathroom in a hurry because I have a bladder the size of a walnut. I looked into my regular stall (yes, I had a stall I used regularly. Doesn't everyone?) and took note of the toilet paper situation. There was a roll perched on top of the holder. Score! I plopped on the pot and took care of business (for the record, I only did #1. Had I needed to do #2, this story would have ended much worse than it actually did). 

Business taken care of, I grabbed for the roll of t.p. Being the oh-so-coordinated person that I am, I managed to knock the roll off the holder when I grabbed for it. I watched in horror as the t.p. rolled across the floor of the stall. Thinking quickly, I checked the actual holder for toilet paper. No luck. Just empty rolls. Not even a measly scrap of paper. 

I assessed the situation and realized that the roll on the floor was just within reach. I carefully stretched my right leg out and was just... about... to... get... it... but no. My foot succeeded in reaching the roll just enough to bump it right out of the stall. I watched, head down, peeking under the door, as the toilet paper mockingly unrolled across the bathroom floor.

Fuck!

What now? I'm only slightly embarrassed to say this, but I proceeded to check the floor for scraps of paper. Of course, the one time I could benefit from toilet paper litter the floor is bare. Double fuck.

I again assessed my situation. I concluded that I had three options...

1. I could sit there, patiently, and wait for someone else to come in to use the bathroom. Knowing how few women worked in the building, I concluded that there was no telling how long I would be sitting there, waiting. It could be hours.
2. I could do the whole drip-dry thing, hoping that things would dry off enough so I could pull my pants up part way and then waddle into another stall to snag some t.p. Of course, it would be just my luck that someone would enter the bathroom at the exact moment my bare, white ass was waddling across the room. 
3. I could yell for help and hope someone would hear me and come to my rescue. Of course, if you remember, the only people who would hear me would be the male production workers.

As you can imagine, I concluded that these options were not actually options. So I sat some more (like I had anywhere else to go) and thought some more. At this point, my eyes happened upon the empty cardboard toilet paper rolls hanging on the holder. A-ha! Another option! 

Yup! I peeled some cardboard off the roll, and I used it! Not one of my finer moments, and certainly not one of my most comfortable ones, but it did the trick.

How about you? Do you have any embarrassing, no-toilet-paper stories to share? I would love to hear about them. Especially since I anticipate needing a few laughs after the car ride today. Comment away!