Oblivio: Stories and such by Michael Barrish

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Forward | Oct 27 2005

K put the toilet paper on backwards. I discovered this when I went to pee. I like having the roll facing out, as I think of it, the loose flap hanging over the front, because I find it easier to tear off a section this way. The other way makes no sense to me, and leaves me feeling annoyed and frustrated.

A month ago K and I had a talk about replacing the roll. Or I should say, I had a talk with her. When the roll runs out, I always replace it immediately. I’m like this in general—I don’t like to leave things for later—but I’m particularly like this with toilet paper. My concern is that I’ll find the roll empty when I need it most.

K is different from me. She doesn’t like to think about any moment but the present moment, about any need but her present need.* So the only time she replaces the toilet paper is when she happens to need some and there isn’t any. I figure this is what happened today: the toilet paper ran out when she needed it, so she replaced the roll. She may have thought of me then and congratulated herself for doing something to please me. Or maybe not. I only know that she didn’t remember me telling her which way I like the toilet paper to face, despite the fact that I’ve mentioned this several times over the course of our relationship.

But that’s all water under the bridge, as it were, because I believe I’ve solved the problem now. I took a pen and a yellow sticky and I wrote a note to K, saying, “K you are so beautiful please put the toilet paper forward.” This note is taped to the little plastic tube that goes through the toilet paper roll, holding it in place.