Eureka! We have toilet paper! The amazing sight before his eyes, that of two-ply rolled around a cardboard cylinder would have been much less astounding at most times of his life. These were special circumstances, however.
For the past two and a half weeks, Josh and his roommate had been locked in a bitter struggle over who would purchase replacement for that long forgotten roll, a roll which now seem to have existed only in the distant past.
Indeed, the previous occupant of the spindle – a wall mounted servant to King John – was now the stuff of legend. "Four ply she was, a roll that stretched farther than even a horse could travel between two moons. And soft. Soft as a lover's bosom." At least that was how Josh remembered back when he and his roommate had been blessed with such silken finery.
This fierce drought had taken its toll. For half a month, Josh had treated his own bathroom strictly as a place for showering and liquid relief. He was careful that the two tasks never mixed, and prayed daily that his roommate maintained a similar policy.
Now though, he'd finally be able to use this room of his two bedroom flat to his full advantage. The possibilities, while certainly not endless, had obviously increased. Best of all, he was the clear victor in the cold war of toilet paper. Last night the other man must have blinked, or wiped, he thought, as the roll was nearly finished.
"It doesn't matter though," thought Josh while finishing his business, still needing a few more squares to be truly satisfied with his work. "I've won. Score one for the red team!" Josh had no particular reason for his affinity for the phrase "red team," but this didn't matter.
Now in all his "red team not wanting to purchase community bathroom supplies out of simple principle" glory, he looked to the top shelf for the rest of the now opened tissue products. But only disappointment followed.
He examined the single slip of paper with its glum message:
-Josh
didn't have time to tell you. ganked half a roll from Allison downstairs. We really need more when you get a chance.
-Rob Great. What now? He crumpled the green slip of paper and looked down at his hands. Fortunately, frustration had provided his answer.
Labels: bathroom battle, short story, showdown, toilet paper, war
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