“Zed?” I ask seriously as my colleague approaches my desk. “Do you have any strong feelings about toilet roll?”
Zed pauses reflectively, then shakes her head. “No. I mean, I have some feelings – obviously - but not strong ones. Why, do you?”
I nod earnestly, and she pulls up a chair, preparing herself for the onslaught. “Let’s hear it, then.”
I explain my thoughts, which have stemmed from a realisation on my way home last night that I had no toilet roll left in the house. I stopped in at the Spar on the Grove Road, and surveyed the toilet roll aisle. It was the first time in my life that I’d performed this task with the serious contemplation I now realise it deserves. Money was, until very recently, no object to me. This was a mistake, as I now realise (now that I don’t have enough, I mean). There are significant savings to be made in the most trivial and simple ways; for example, shopping at Lidl instead of Sainsbury’s, being organised about meals (as opposed to buying a Chinese here and a pre-packaged sandwich there), and – crucially – looking at the entire selection of toilet rolls on the shelves instead of just grabbing the one with the cutest animal on the packet.
I found myself overwhelmed and a little panicky as I tried to evaluate my prioities. Priorities concerning toilet roll were never something I’d ever had to consider in the Good Old Days (when I had money). “So,” I explain to Zed, “I’m looking at the 4-pack of Andrex and it says £2.49. And I’m thinking, holy cow, that’s an awful lot of money for something I’m going to intentionally flush down the toilet. Then I glance across and see 4 rolls of Spar own-brand economy toilet roll for 69p. Why would I spend £2.49 when I could spend 69p? So I examined it and realised that it was so thin, I’d probably go through more than double the amount, so it’d work out more expensive and less convenient in the long run, because before I know it I’m going to be standing here having this dilemma all over again.”
Zed is being very understanding. “I understand,” she says. “What did you do in the end – you did buy some toilet roll, didn’t you?”
I nod. “Lotus,” I inform her. “4 rolls, £1.29, not too thin, but not too dear. Would you say I made the right choice?” I’m looking anxiously at her, awaiting her sage advice. To my relief, she is nodding approvingly, proudly, even.
McBouncy appears and is brought up to speed on the situation. We ask how she chooses her toilet roll.
“Do you know there’s actually perfumed stuff these days?” she asks scornfully. “What a ridiculous idea. Why on earth would you want to perfume something that’s going to end up smelling like -”
“Which brand do you buy, McBouncy?” asks Zed hastily.
“I buy in bulk,” she says cheerfully. “Sports Relief phoned me and made me an offer – 60 rolls of toilet roll and 100 bin liners for £75.” We look at her incredulously. “You bought 60 rolls of toilet roll?” I splutter. “…for £75?” adds Zed. “AND 100 bin liners!” adds McBouncy, as if this makes it perfectly understandable. We stare at her. “Plus… it was for charity…” she finishes lamely.
If someone phoned McBouncy up and asked her to purchase a small Pygmy tribe, and they were giving away a free drinking straw with every order, she would do it.
Filed under: conversations, Lidl, money, Sainsbury's, shopping, toilet roll, weird
Why am I defending myself? It was 80 toilet rolls and 600 bin liners – slightly better value for money than it sounds… well the toilet rolls did work out more in the Andrex bracket than the Lotus, but it was a one off purchase with money going to charity. The packaging even reminds me that every 3 seconds a child dies of starvation, somewhere in the world…
Every time I open a new package I am reminded of this fact. Is that not more edifying than fluffy puppies wasting toilet roll by dragging it around the house?
Oh my word! I am defending my purchase of toilet roll a 9.30 in the morning with a desk full of work surrounding me. Is it any wonder I agree to buy things over the phone. My mind is not on my work – it’s on your blog! It’s all your fault I spent £75 on 80 toilet rolls and 600 bin liners!!!!!
When are you ever, in your lifetime, going to use 600 bin liners?
600 bin liners might become handy in several ways.
1) Disposing of bodies
2) 1 hole on top,2 on sides=excellent rain coat and quite a fashion statement
3) storing 80 rolls of toilet paper
4) Oh, lining bins. Forgot about that one.
Now, listen. Toilet roll is very important. I have spent ten years researching this very subject (not full-time, you understand, just on the occasions that I need to purchase some) and have finally found one I like – ’tis Andrex Aloe Vera. Yes, I know, very expensive. However, the others have all had problems, some are too thin (poke holes, yuck), or too slippery (slide about, yuckety yuck), or some are even just too thick.
My mum uses the one with pictures of bears imprinted in (Charmin, possibly?) and that is quite nice, but am not sure of the price.
Over the years, I believe I have tried just about every brand there is. I still do not, however, know where the public toilet providers get that hard, stiff, shiny, slippery paper they still use in some loos. (double yuckety yuck yuckety).
OK, enough about bog roll. Time to eat lunch.
Loving your work xx
You can always trust something as serious as toilet roll preferences and bin liners to inspire a good commenter response.
These comments are all worthy to be posts in themselves!
80 toilet rolls – does McBouncy use it to paper the walls?
I agree with Sheppitsgal; TP is far too important to be thrifty on. You can be penny-pinching and use standard NHS issue sandpaper if you want, but it’s Andrex all the way for me…
nearly 5 years later and I have just finished the bin liners!! Toilet roll is long gone ;(
And re-finding this blog post has me in tears