Stories of our Times:

Toilet Paper Tales

Yes. That’s more like it.

But then, there was the issue of my height. At five foot two not much could be done without resorting to extreme measures. No amount of strained tippy toes, stretched arms, and dislocated shoulders would suffice. Drastic times call for drastic measures.

Without losing eye contact with my target, I charged sideways, to the other side of the cleaning supplies aisle and hurriedly seized a broomstick (with mop strings screwed onto it) off the hanger. I then leapfrogged in the air, momentarily airborne, jousting the broomstick at the much-desired tissue treasure, the mop shaking its head as if in disapproval. I may have looked like a medieval knight, engaged in a chivalric fencing battle against a fierce opponent. My valiant moves bore fruit though, resulting in the pack now being suspended at the top of the broomstick, like a lollipop.

Mission accomplished! Our forces reigned victorious! I congratulated myself as I took possession of the loot, a tad queasy and huffing from all the banging and jumping.

There was a great deal of social distancing from me thereafter, as I marched with my plunder towards checkout. But this escapade begs the question, what happens when two customers crave that precious artifact simultaneously?

The way I see it, several possible scenarios could unfold. It may start with a race. On your mark, get set, go! Both contestants sprint with their groceries-filled carts towards the irresistible bathroom supply and the winner takes it all (ay, ay, the pun, the pun…)

Then there’s the standstill scenario in which both contenders stop short of lifting their arms towards the beloved product, resorting instead to a staredown contest where they glare at each other, furrow their eyebrows and tightly purse their lips. Whoever flinches first, loses.

A completely different plotline involves the sudden realization by one or both opponents that in the heat of the moment they have infringed on the Cdc-accepted social distance, in which case one of them (or both) springs backward in horror. A third customer, oblivious to the six feet rule and to social decorum in general, and of rather a mischievous character overall, seizes the opportunity to snatch the trophy of 12 double rolls (which equals to 24 in total, have I mentioned that?) and flees to checkout while heaving and sweating (only from excitement, of course. Well, hopefully).

A fourth option, not entirely unimaginable in places like Canada, is the ensuing of a dialog such as this one:

“Go ahead, you came here first.” “Oh, no, no, please, you should have it.”

“No, I insist. This is yours.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!”

Of course, if the conversation lasts for too long, there’s always a chance that our naughty client from the previous paragraph will help himself/herself to the loot while the other two strike a lifelong friendship based on mutual respect and support, in which case they may not even need those rolls anyway because they’ll be happily and voluntarily donating to each other the ones they have already stashed at home.

In summation, don’t turn a potential friend into a probable foe over toilet paper (or pasta or canned corn). Keep calm and stay safe!