We Have To Talk About Single Ply (Can Series #1)

Let me tell you a story:

 

I’ve been peeing and pooping for over 45 years.

I’ve been peeing and pooping in the potty for at least 42 of those years.

 

That’s it. That’s the story. Point is, I have a lot of experience wiping my ass.

 

You’re not tricking us. You’re just disrespecting us. It hurts not to be trusted to use the bathroom.*

Math may not be totally super in this country, but I think that the vast majority of the over-5 crowd know that if you take away half the paper, you need more paper to do the job.** Just let us have it. And if you can read newsprint through said “paper”, newsflash: it’s not paper; It’s an insult.

It’s particularly galling when you’re in one of those stalls where the dispenser doesn’t roll with the paper, and you have to unroll it around the metal thing like you’re unwrapping a head wound, but it keeps tearing because it barely exists***, so you do it like eight times but your arm gets tired, or you get sick of it, or you have to be somewhere else so you just give up and use what you have which is never enough, so now you’re urine-ated. And places like these are the ones that have those rusty soap dispensers that are so ancient that nobody’s refilled the soap since the Clinton administration. It’s like an oxymoron, how you can see dirt in the old, pink soap.

 

*That brings me to Can Series #2: What’s the deal with businesses not letting the public use their restrooms? Will I use up your toilet? Helpful Hint: that’s not how that works! If it’s the paper, I’ll bring my own. If it’s the water, then get the hell out of here and stop being an asshole. We’re not in Flint. We’re in Chicago, and we have an entire Great Lakeful of water. And listen, the alternative is I stand here arguing with you and have an accident on your floor. And ok, if that’s the preferable experience for you, so be it. If that’s how you get your jollies, I say different strokes for different folks. But I ain’t cleaning that shit. You’re on your own. I, with the dignity I’ve gained from having Ulcerative Colitis for 25 years, will march out the door, cross the street, and maintain eye contact with you as I scrape my butt on the grass like a dog with the runs.

**Same with shortening the rolls. You’re fooling nobody, bud.

***Schröedinger’s toilet paper?

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