Summary

The article discusses the author's shock and bemusement at the panic-buying of toilet paper in response to the COVID-19 pandemic, questioning the logic behind stockpiling and the impact on community solidarity.

Abstract

The author, Sherry McGuinn, recounts her recent experience at a grocery store where she observed a complete absence of toilet paper due to panic buying amid the COVID-19 outbreak. She humorously expresses concern about the scarcity of this essential item, given that she and her husband only have a 12-pack at home. McGuinn critiques the hoarding mentality that leads to such shortages, suggesting that it undermines the community's ability to support each other in times of crisis. She also touches on the broader societal implications, including the role of leadership during such times, with a veiled critique of then-President Trump's handling of the pandemic. The article ends with a call for collective responsibility and a plea for readers to remain calm and considerate of others' needs.

Opinions

The author finds the toilet paper shortage perplexing, as it is not a product associated with the symptoms of COVID-19.
McGuinn is critical of the panic buying, viewing it as an overreaction that deprives others of necessary supplies.
She expresses concern about the potential for societal breakdown in the face of fear and scarcity.
The author implies that the current leadership, specifically President Trump, has failed to alleviate public fear and manage the crisis effectively.
McGuinn humorously contemplates alternative toilet paper options, such as paper towels, corn cobs, and newspapers, but finds them lacking or unsanitary.
She advocates for a return to rational behavior and community spirit, suggesting that sacrificing a few rolls of toilet paper is a small price to pay for the greater good.
The author also notes the absence of distilled water, another item being hoarded without clear rationale, indicating a broader pattern of irrational stockpiling.

Now, THIS is Scary!

Who ate the toilet paper?

I just came from the grocery store. Not to stock up in the wake of a siege, but to purchase dinner and a few other items like distilled water for my husband’s C-PAP machine.

As I wandered down the paper goods aisle to get some paper towels, I noticed that there wasn’t one roll of toilet paper on the shelves. They were in fact, wiped clean. Pun intended!

I noticed that shoppers’ carts were filled with stacks of butt-wipe. Not the 12 rolls, but the humongous, Costco-like packages. You know: Large enough for the Von Trapp family.

WTF? Did I miss something? I realize that COVID-19 has people in a panic, but toilet paper? I haven’t read anything that says the virus gives people the trots. Maybe I missed something.

But now, I’m starting to worry, because my husband and I have 12 rolls of TP to our name. And like everyone else, we have to go Number 2 on occasion.

I’m not going to get descriptive but I eat a lot of fiber because it’s healthy. And filling. But it also makes you wanna go poo. So what’s a girl to do?

As peeing for you guys simply means letting it go and shaking it out, I’m focusing on the act of actually having to sit down on the crapper and wiping clean, after.

I was chatting with one of the grocery employees and he told me that this morning, the lines were out the door. As we talked, shoppers raced around us, frantically grabbing whatever they could.

This is not a good sign, friends. How are we supposed to help one another when we’re depriving a good part of the population with such necessities as something to wipe our asses with?

I don’t want to have to resort to paper towels. Not only do they clog the pipes but, unlike Charmin, they make it a lot tougher to “enjoy the go.” (Who the hell came up with that one, by the way? Slap!)

As my hubby asked, are we going to have to wipe ourselves with corn cobs, as they did in the olden days? How sanitary can that be? Not to mention, what happens if you get an errant kernel stuck up your butt? Floss down there?

There’s always the newspaper, I suppose. But if I’m going to ink my ass, it will be with a tattoo, not The New York Times.

Old bath towels? Eeewwww.

Baby wipes? Maybe, but there’s probably a run on those, too.

Of course, our Criminal-In-Chief, who may be infected himself, has done nothing to staunch the fear that’s consuming our country like a snake sucking up a mouse.

His rambling, error-filled speech the other night only served to heighten our sense that the apocalypse is looming.

Do you think Donald Trump is going to run out of toilet paper? No way in hell. Jared is probably buying out the Capital Supermarket even as I write this.

Trump needs to go. And I’m not talking about taking a dump.

So let’s all step back and take a deep breath. This is scary as shit and there’s no way around that. But we need to pull together, and if that means sacrificing a roll or two of TP, so be it.

Stay safe and stay well.

Oh, there was no distilled water, either. I wonder what the hell people are stockpiling that for?

Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.

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