Deep rooted fear.
I have a deep rooted fear, a fear so great that I would be willing to sell off my children to avoid ever having to face it again. A fear I and many others face everywhere in the United States at any time of the day. It is at work, at home, in a restaurant, a gas station, it is endless and yet I manage to get through the day without it totally trashing my day.
I don’t have a fear of enclosed spaces, nor bugs (well maybe spiders…because you don’t really notice them before half of my red blood cells are in their bodies), nor heights, nor animals. Not even being duct taped to the ceiling would scare me. I know the duct tape would hold. Some people fear relationships, shots, getting your tongue stuck in the mixer paddles or getting sick.
What is it that could make the strongest, funniest, smartest and most modest man in the world shake like a bowl of Jello? Toilet Paper. That is it. I have a fear of running out of toilet paper. My wife (QueenSuchandSuch) learned early that I had to have toilet paper at the ready at any given moment or location. She buys it by the pallet. Seriously, we purchase the largest pack made.
I even have stash throughout the house. I have two rolls in the closet, two rolls hidden in the spacepod, two rolls hidden in the kid’s bathroom closet. There are another two or three rolls in the basement. Andi keeps about 24 rolls in the house at all times.
What could possibly cause me to have a fear like this? Very simply, by not having it when I need it. In my youth, I was in the boy’s restroom in school and sat down to take care of business. I did not look before I sat down and then noticed the alarming lack of TP (code name for toilet paper) in the stall. OK, so I checked the bathroom and did the shuffle to the next stall which also had none, and the next, and the next. All of the stalls were out of TP. How could this be? So being 8 year old, I return to my original stall and scream for assistance.
Minutes which felt like hours went by with my hollering at the top of my lungs, “Help, I need help.”
At that moment a female voice yells in, “Is something wrong?”
Still young and not willing to yell out my usual smart comment of “why else would I be yelling for help”, I answer with, “there is no toilet paper in here.” It is at that point the school bell rings and is flooding with classmates in the hallways. She yells back in at the top of her lungs (because it is noisy in the hallway), “Someone will bring you the toilet paper in a second hon!”
As a guy, this is NOT a good broadcast in the hallway of the school. Laughter rang throughout and I continued to sit there. This is very similar to having a price check done on condoms. The janitor came in with toilet paper and handed it to me over the door. I stayed in there until I heard no other children in the school and finally exited. There was no way I was going to be known as Toilet Paper Boy.
I will never be placed in that position again.
This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Buy more toilet paper. Keep the stalls stocked. I will be checking every stall before I take my seat at the throne and if I find that yours is empty I will bitch and moan.
What do you fear?
I don’t have a fear of enclosed spaces, nor bugs (well maybe spiders…because you don’t really notice them before half of my red blood cells are in their bodies), nor heights, nor animals. Not even being duct taped to the ceiling would scare me. I know the duct tape would hold. Some people fear relationships, shots, getting your tongue stuck in the mixer paddles or getting sick.
What is it that could make the strongest, funniest, smartest and most modest man in the world shake like a bowl of Jello? Toilet Paper. That is it. I have a fear of running out of toilet paper. My wife (QueenSuchandSuch) learned early that I had to have toilet paper at the ready at any given moment or location. She buys it by the pallet. Seriously, we purchase the largest pack made.
I even have stash throughout the house. I have two rolls in the closet, two rolls hidden in the spacepod, two rolls hidden in the kid’s bathroom closet. There are another two or three rolls in the basement. Andi keeps about 24 rolls in the house at all times.
What could possibly cause me to have a fear like this? Very simply, by not having it when I need it. In my youth, I was in the boy’s restroom in school and sat down to take care of business. I did not look before I sat down and then noticed the alarming lack of TP (code name for toilet paper) in the stall. OK, so I checked the bathroom and did the shuffle to the next stall which also had none, and the next, and the next. All of the stalls were out of TP. How could this be? So being 8 year old, I return to my original stall and scream for assistance.
Minutes which felt like hours went by with my hollering at the top of my lungs, “Help, I need help.”
At that moment a female voice yells in, “Is something wrong?”
Still young and not willing to yell out my usual smart comment of “why else would I be yelling for help”, I answer with, “there is no toilet paper in here.” It is at that point the school bell rings and is flooding with classmates in the hallways. She yells back in at the top of her lungs (because it is noisy in the hallway), “Someone will bring you the toilet paper in a second hon!”
As a guy, this is NOT a good broadcast in the hallway of the school. Laughter rang throughout and I continued to sit there. This is very similar to having a price check done on condoms. The janitor came in with toilet paper and handed it to me over the door. I stayed in there until I heard no other children in the school and finally exited. There was no way I was going to be known as Toilet Paper Boy.
I will never be placed in that position again.
This brings me to my point (as I almost always have one). Buy more toilet paper. Keep the stalls stocked. I will be checking every stall before I take my seat at the throne and if I find that yours is empty I will bitch and moan.
What do you fear?
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