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“Let’s get to the bottom of the great toilet paper debate of Over versus Under, shall we?” I feign giggle-flavored flirtatiousness, standing there holding a roll of toilet paper like The Statue of Liberty’s torch.
(Is my attempt at laughter overly revealing? Am I trying too hard to sound lighthearted? Casual? Nonchalant? Playful? I probably should have just smiled.)
“We seem to come from different schools of thought on this issue.”
(I need to understand where you’re coming from here.)
“Would you be so kind as to share why you consistently choose Under when it comes to the choice of Over or Under for toilet paper? Educate me, please.”
(Was ‘consistently’ too harsh? Do I sound like I’m passing judgment?)
I chuckle.
(Ugh, that sounded phony. Is he tuned in enough to see that?)
“I understand the reasons for Over, but can’t quite comprehend Under.”
(Not from lack of trying.)
“Throw me a bone here, would ya?”
(I’m trying. Good God, am I trying.)
“There are quite a few reasons for Over.”
(Your bubble and my bubble are getting farther and farther apart. I swallow and feel like the pit of my stomach will swallow me whole. Will swallow us whole. The familiar feeling of my chest hiding by hallowing itself down and out makes me worry that I chose the wrong time for this.)
“When you go Over, it’s as if the free squares of TP are practically offering themselves to you… begging to be used!”
(It’s not as if I’m asking you to never watch your ‘News’ station again. But if you’re not willing to turn the channel every so often and see what else is happening and being reported, our gap gets even wider. What do we have then?)
“It’s almost like the available squares are saluting you. Can you hear them? ‘Here we are, at your service!’” My charade of making a mouth with the free flap of toilet paper as a tongue falls flat.
(Are you aware that your channel didn’t even cover breaking stories of SOS calls from departing high-level officials, or arrogance that upends the stability of diplomacy by turning friends into foes, etc.? Since when did issues of national security not get under your stiff collar? Since when was being uninformed okay with you? Do you even know how much you don’t know? You have to, right?)
“I’m stumped on what the reasons might be for Under.” Using the free end of the roll, I pretend it’s a hand mimicking the upturned palms emoji that pops up after typing ‘dunno.’ Either he doesn’t get it, or he’s not in the mood to be amused.
(Can you see that this isn’t your Grandpa Phil’s G.O.P.? That it’s not your dad’s, either? Hell, it’s not even your older brother’s Republican Party, and he’s only seventeen months older than you! Can you explain to me why the political party you choose to let brainwash you is seemingly the one and only party in the entire world that denies what is happening to our natural world?)
“Perhaps there aren’t reasons?”
(Do you know what cognitive dissonance is? If I sent you a link, would you read it? Would you see yourself? Or would the cognitive dissonance itself blind you?)
“Could it be just a mindless habit? I can surely understand mindless habits. I sport one or two myself, as you may have noticed. Hahaha!”
(Damn. I did it again. I over-laughed.)
“I absolutely understand if it’s just a thoughtless moment. Toilet paper by rote kinda thing.”
(I understand that there are folks who are so consumed with the day-to-day business of carpooling kids and putting food on the table after dragging themselves home, exhausted after their second job. But that’s not you. You have the luxury of time and information. And I thought you had heart, too. Where is that heart? How does a heart just go off-line like that?)
“It seems to me that common sense dictates that it’s Over.”
(Do you see the direct connection between your vote and babies in cages? What if the babies in cages were white? Would it matter? Will you acknowledge the dog whistles to the white supremacists “blood and soil”-ing our country? The uptick in anti-Semitism? The divisiveness that feels like a gas line looking for a match? And how The Caucasian House of today eggs it on?)
“Do you actually enjoy fishing for the end of the toilet paper when it’s hiding somewhere underneath? Spinning it around a few times to finally find the end doesn’t annoy you even the slightest bit?”
(Do you have the slightest clue – or care – how exhausting it is to experience heartbreak every freakin’ day because of the cruelness and chaos of this administration? DO YOU? Does it affect you to be living with a chronic case of that heartbreak?)
“Over is far more convenient.”
(What would be most convenient for those of us who do care is if the 39% would remember where their hearts are and what empathy is. Are you willing to take into consideration anything beyond your 4-cornered wallet? Is that all that matters to you in your 4-cornered world?)
“Shouldn’t that be enough? The convenience factor?”
(What about the climate? Why doesn’t it keep you up at night to think that if we don’t meet this environmental crisis honestly and swiftly, there will be no more economic policies and DOW points and hedge funds and tariffs because earth will be uninhabitable to humans? How can you sleep at night, when I can barely convince myself to get out of bed in the mornings anymore?)
“If you’re seemingly not putting that much thought into it, why not defer to someone who has thought about this a whole helluva lot?”
(Do we need to wait for the 1% to have their vacation homes pummeled or flooded or burnt to a crisp or tsunami-ed by climate change-related (un)natural disasters before enough of us wake up to actually make a difference? Can we afford to wait? Or will it already be too late?)
“What if you knew that it kind of irks me to find a perfectly good roll of toilet paper hanging there upside down?”
(Does toilet paper exist on other planets? Because we’re going to end up needing to find another planet once we can no longer survive on this one!)
“Well, if you don’t really think that much about it or even actually care, wouldn’t it be just as easy to line it up with the end hanging Over?”
(Either that, or the rampant gun violence in this country will have already self-selected us right out of the picture.)
“It only takes two, maybe three, seconds to be thoughtful about it.”
(How does the contrived future imaginary scenario in which gun lovers need their guns to fight off the government trump bodies of dead CHILDREN in schools? At movie theatres? Shopping malls? Churches? Mosques? Synagogues?)
“Yes, sometimes I DO change it to Over after you’ve put it Under.”
(How can you lap up talking points that make no fucking sense? ‘Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.’ By that lowbrow logic, e-cigarettes don’t kill people, either. Vaping kills people, not e-cigarettes. But six people die and there’s talk of banning them? SIX people. Meanwhile, ONE HUNDRED people die DAILY in the U.S. by gun violence. What if an NVA were formed? Would there be National Vaping Association mental gymnastics to embrace propaganda that numbs grey matter?)
“I understand that you don’t think about it. But, COULD you? Maybe?”
(Would I then have to hear about prying e-cigs out of cold, dead hands?)
“Yes! Yes, it does make me anxious! Yes, I see that it’s a small thing for you. That’s pretty damn clear. Yes, I get that it’s not important to you. Do you get that it matters to me?”
(Fixers and Sharpies, payoffs, the good ole boy network, bully pulpit bullying, adult film stars, avalanches of ugly lies, nationwide gaslighting, pink polka-dotted bulletproof backpacks, corruption so severe it’s mocking you ….)
“If it doesn’t matter all that much to you, why not just put in the teeny amount of effort to remember to put it Over? Consider it an exercise in mindfulness. Take a deep breath, recognize that it’s an opportunity to make me happy, or at the very least to help curb my anxiety, and go Over!”
(….rampant natural disasters ripping entire regions to shreds, bromances with draconian dictators, nepotism, turning the clock back decades on women and racism and LGBTQ issues, fighting science, a whistleblower, having a self-proclaimed sexual predator in the highest office in the land… HOW IS ANY OF THIS OKAY WITH YOU? For the love of all that was once sacred, how can a rational person not put their motherfucking toilet paper on the motherfucking spindle in a way that makes motherfucking sense? Or at least makes me not want to implode?)
“Fine. Keep doing it your way. I’ll move what’s mine down the hall tonight. When your mom and Doug visit in December, YOU explain to them why they’ll be sharing the guest bathroom with me.”
(At least now when I start ugly crying and grab toilet paper to use as tissues, I’ll know it will be easier to get a hold of it because it will be Over!)
Studying the quilt, threadbare in some spots, I repeat: “Common sense dictates that it’s Over.”
Tracy Rose Stamper lives in a home on a hill in St. Louis with her two human loves, her two rescue beagle boys, and a whimsical wind sculpture out front. She is a columnist at Rebelle Society, contributing author of Anna Linder’s ‘The Book of Emotions,’ and has had work appear in several other cyber nooks and crannies.