Toilet Paper
This rant is inspired by beelers.
Coarse, cheap toilet paper has been a menace to me from an early age. I can recall heading to the bar where my mom worked after school, which is where I hung out until she got off work, and going to the bathroom only to be appalled, once again, at the tinfoil-like consistency of the paper goods.
One time I came in, my mom & her good-natured boss were standing behind the bar, and Mom grinned evilly & offered me a sheet of aluminum foil. I should've taken it - it might've been slightly less absorbent, but at least it wouldn't turn to mush in my hand.
Another time, shortly after the husband & I started dating, we visited a good friend of mine in Washington D.C., Toni Tony (there's a reason for the nick, I'm just not at liberty to disclose it at this time), who, at that time, was a Marine working in the White House. He managed to secure us a now unheard of private tour of the restricted areas, like the Oval Office & the rose garden. We followed after the SS guys who greeted us at the gate, ran our criminal record which was slightly nerve-wracking for S, & then escorted us thru whatever the cavernous room is with the long table where Congress or someone convenes. I eyeballed the Nobel Peace Prize perched on the fireplace & briefly sat on one of the regal chairs, and then we entered the office where a large man sat beneath the painting of Washington crossing the Potomac & he shooed us on our way towards the Oval Office.
We were very excited about the Oval Office. I stuck a tentative foot thru the doorway & tapped it on the rug, marvelled at the ornate, antique desk & the bad taste of the decorator, then announced I had to pee. The large man was summoned to direct me to the bathroom, which turned out to be right around the corner.
Now. I don't know where the president (it was Clinton at the time) relieves himself, and maybe the men's bathroom was outfitted with premium products, maybe he has his own private loo off the office, but I expected better toilet paper.
Not so! Much to my disbelief, it was that same crap sandpaper I remembered from my childhood spent in a cheap bar. I came out of there bellowing about protecting the pres's undercarriage & the lack of anything resembling "soft & absorbent".
So, let this be a lesson - bring your own roll because it doesn't matter where you go, the toilet paper will be shitty.
*makes mental note to stock closet with Charmin Ultra when D & E visit*
Coarse, cheap toilet paper has been a menace to me from an early age. I can recall heading to the bar where my mom worked after school, which is where I hung out until she got off work, and going to the bathroom only to be appalled, once again, at the tinfoil-like consistency of the paper goods.
One time I came in, my mom & her good-natured boss were standing behind the bar, and Mom grinned evilly & offered me a sheet of aluminum foil. I should've taken it - it might've been slightly less absorbent, but at least it wouldn't turn to mush in my hand.
Another time, shortly after the husband & I started dating, we visited a good friend of mine in Washington D.C., Toni Tony (there's a reason for the nick, I'm just not at liberty to disclose it at this time), who, at that time, was a Marine working in the White House. He managed to secure us a now unheard of private tour of the restricted areas, like the Oval Office & the rose garden. We followed after the SS guys who greeted us at the gate, ran our criminal record which was slightly nerve-wracking for S, & then escorted us thru whatever the cavernous room is with the long table where Congress or someone convenes. I eyeballed the Nobel Peace Prize perched on the fireplace & briefly sat on one of the regal chairs, and then we entered the office where a large man sat beneath the painting of Washington crossing the Potomac & he shooed us on our way towards the Oval Office.
We were very excited about the Oval Office. I stuck a tentative foot thru the doorway & tapped it on the rug, marvelled at the ornate, antique desk & the bad taste of the decorator, then announced I had to pee. The large man was summoned to direct me to the bathroom, which turned out to be right around the corner.
Now. I don't know where the president (it was Clinton at the time) relieves himself, and maybe the men's bathroom was outfitted with premium products, maybe he has his own private loo off the office, but I expected better toilet paper.
Not so! Much to my disbelief, it was that same crap sandpaper I remembered from my childhood spent in a cheap bar. I came out of there bellowing about protecting the pres's undercarriage & the lack of anything resembling "soft & absorbent".
So, let this be a lesson - bring your own roll because it doesn't matter where you go, the toilet paper will be shitty.
*makes mental note to stock closet with Charmin Ultra when D & E visit*
posted by RCSure | 11:34 AM
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