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Writins of Weakeyes Cody

                                  Talented and witty writings

Marooned @2001

Ever notice that some things tend to annoy us day after day, and just keep on doing it? Like a spot on the sidewalk where we repeatedly stub our toe time after time and can't seem to remember that it's there, Or a cabinet door where we're always bumping our head.


One of the grand nuisances that I finally overcame with the help of my darlin' bride, was to return the car seat to the position it was in before she moved it. She always came back with the reply, "You never put in back for me!" Which is true, but as tried to reason, I'm over six feet and when my longer legs slip under the wheel and my back hits the seat back, it throws my knee into the dash causing undue pain. Not to mention the profanity it evokes. She point out that none of the foregoing is necessary if I would simply remember to position the seat my dang self.


You see, how easily the problem was solved? better ten thousand knee bangings, I remember to correct the problem before it happens. I could never have done it without her help.


There is one problem, however, that pops up at the most irksome times. And it can happen wherever I might be. It's humiliating, enfeebling, and absolutely marooning. It's happened to me in costly hotels as well as my own home. It even happened to me once in the nation's capitol. What makes this incident so notable is the fact that it can be avoided with simple planning and forethought.


What is this happening that so twists my mind and makes me want to turn against society? Well, my dear reader, it's the indefensible act of running out of toilet paper! How many times have I looked up from the conclusion of a perfectly executed bowel movement, to see the toilet paper spool reduced down to the wrinkled area. There's maybe eighteen inches of this precious paper remaining and I know I need more than that -much more. And here I sit completely at the mercy of circumstances. Often the problem can be solved by simply asking the person next door to slip an extra roll under the stall partition. But if no one is next door, what does one do? Usually, when this happens the toilet where I am turns as quiet as an Egyptian tomb. Especially if it's in some large public building like city hall. Exactly what I do is what I've done over these sixty four years - be creative. No, I'm not going to expound on all the adventures these dilemmas have flung me into, needless to say, you, dear reader, have experienced a few of your own.


It's just that they come at times when we're most vulnerable. Approaching my three score and ten years, I have less time to get to the necessary place anymore. Meaning I don't, as I once did, pick my place to go.


Once in the perfumed environment of a female friend's house, I found myself looking at an empty spool of you-know-what! Quietly exploring the cabinets and drawers produced no help. I couldn't go forth from here in this condition. And worse yet, there was no foo-foo spray to overcome the odor of a dynamic bowel movement. Marooned again! Surrendering unconditionally was all I could do this time, I yelled for someone to hand me a roll of the invaluable paper through a small opening of the door. She did so, apologizing profusely. But I felt like reversing my head with my butt and flushing.


Today, our two bathrooms have at a minimum, three rolls of Charmin, with a roll of Brawny paper towels on stand by. I consider an expired roll of toilet paper, without access to a re-toad, to be an act of flagrant disregard for one's fellow man. There is absolutely nothing more despicable than to leave one sitting on the rim of cold plastic, circulation being choked off, blood pressure rising, lonely and helpless - and with no foo-foo spray!


I fully realize this isn't an intellectual topic. But I'll bet it's one you agree with.


~ Weakeyes Cody

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