I’m writing about toilet paper- again. Blame coronavirus. But this time, I’m not giving the roll away. I made my fortnightly trip to the grocery store early this morning. It was mostly well-stocked and most shoppers were well-behaved. Curiosity, not necessity, led me down the aisle that’s home to toilet tissue and paper towels. That’s where you learn the real state of pandemic affairs. The news isn’t good. The toilet paper demand curve isn’t flattening. The shelves were bare save for a few lonely boxes of Kleenex. Not a single roll of anything was to be had.
Why toilet paper is in short supply is a mystery. Manufacturers say they’re cranking it out as fast a possible and expediting shipments to retailers. And why it’s being hoarded is another mystery. Covid-19 causes respiratory distress, not GI blues. Whatever. We’ve got our hands full with social distancing.
I’d heard from folks in Cambridge that local stores were limiting toilet paper to two rolls per customer. At least there were some rolls up there to ration. All this makes me glad I bought a 12-pack two weeks ago when I happened to be at the right place- the toilet paper aisle, at the right time- as a huge pallet of Charmin was being restocked.
What seemed like an absurd amount of toilet paper two weeks ago, now doesn’t. Today a friend told me that in her book, twelve is hardly a stash. A 45 pack- now that’s a stash! If things take a turn for the worse, I’ll redefine stash and be glad that I only gave away one of my twelve rolls. Using a precious roll as a tree stand was partly functional and partly Age-of-Corona playfulness. But as soon as the tree comes down, that roll is headed right back to the bathroom. No more messing around with scarcity.
This Easter, maybe a basket full of Charmin would be more welcomed than one of Peeps, jelly beans and foil-wrapped chocolate bunnies. Strange times.
Happy, healthy Easter.