The Case of the Mysterious Missing Toilet Paper

Oh, dorm life.

I would like to begin this post by complaining about The Man's stinginess with toilet paper.

Once upon a time--when I was but a wee freshman--each room was provided with one roll of toilet paper every week. You would open your door every Wednesday morning and there it would be, sitting politely outside in the hallway.

With two people per room and two rooms per bathroom, this gives us a ratio of 4 people for every 2 rolls of toilet paper every 1 week. Or, simplified, 2:1:1/2.


Life was good. Angels sang.

Fast-forward two years.

I return from a brief stint as an RA in another dorm to find that they have cut the frequency of toilet paper providence from a weekly to a biweekly drop-off.

This decreases the person:roll:week ratio to 2:1:1.

I realize most of my readers are girls, for whom this may not seem a grave change, but I can assure you that it is, especially in a guys' dorm.

So, in sum, supply is down and demand is up.

Now . . .

Enter my suitemate, the mysterious Mr. X.

Despite these dire economic straits, Mr. X has not been contributing his biweekly hand-out to the bathroom.

3:1:2.

Yes, that's right.

We are now at 3 people per 1 roll of toilet paper every 2 weeks.

But it gets worse.

For, you see, Mr. X is also one of those people who is--apparently--such a germophobe that he will not deign to seat his behind directly on the porcelain throne. Nay, he must completely cover it in a layer of our preciously scarce TP. Every time.

(Also, what really doesn't make any sense to me, if you are OCD enough to cover the toilet every time you sit on it, how are you not OCD enough to then make sure that paper ends up in the toilet when you are done? I don't want to pick all of that wasted paper off the floor. Anyway . . .)

3:1/2:2.

That, my friends, is the recipe for social unrest.

My roommate and I have already initiated a toilet paper blockade. No longer leaving our roll in the bathroom, only taking it in on a case-by-case basis, in an attempt to force his hand. But is that really enough?

What else can be done?

Must I resort to Toilet Paper Terrorism? Must I wake up early enough every other Wednesday to seize his roll directly from the hall before he can wake up?

Only time will tell. . . .

Paper for the people!