Can You Spare A Square?

Thanks to all of you who've been playing along with my "All About
Hillbilly Mom" quiz. More about that tomorrow. Tonight I have
more pressing matters to discuss. Namely: the new toilet paper
holder at school.

Cazzie hoped it was a real live human, a cabana-boy type handing
out squares of tissue at the door. No. Not quite.

This gargantuan new toilet paper holder is in the faculty women's
restroom at my first building. Heavens to Betsy! Just the thought
of that ginormous thing being installed in Basementia is enough
to start the ancient walls a-cracking.

So the other morning, I dashed into the restroom to do what all
female teachers of questionable age who are taking diuretic
medications to keep that blood pressure at a reasonable level
do before the start of the workday. And as I assumed the position
on the porcelin fixture, I nearly whacked my melon on a newly-
installed fixture. I say 'nearly', because to actually knock my
noggin on that behemoth, I would have had to grow about six
inches taller.

I understand that equipment must be installed as the architecture
permits. I can appreciate the fact that we must have that metal bar
of the type a gymnast would use, the male ones utilizing the parallel
ones, and the females flinging about on the uneven ones. Surely we
might have female faculty members some day who are differently-
abled and have superhuman strength in their left arms and can pull
themselves off the toilet with incredible displays of southpaw
dexterity. But until then, we have this useless bar on the left side
concrete-block wall, and a big open area on the right, so good luck
to anybody who needs help and can't hoist herself off the toilet with
only her overdeveloped left arm.

Anyhoo...back to the hulking monument that has been installed.
To obtain the toilet paper, one must now reach up over her head
and pull down in a motion much like lowering those $9.99 white
vinyl window shades purchased from The Devil's Playground.
Oh, the toilet paper is not nearly so sturdy as those shades. But
the motion to remove some is the same. I nearly dislocated my
shoulder trying to pick some toilet paper from the Great Toilet
Paper Dispenser in the sky.

I suppose this colossal contraption is necessary to hold those
immense bales of tissue-paper quality toilet paper. Gone are
our precious near-to-home-toilet-paper-thickness rolls in the
tri-holder. Now we have a lesser-quality toilet paper than is
used in Basementia! No wonder we must have two BigFoot-
tire-sized rolls instead of our three normal-sized rolls. We will
no doubt use more of it, and require those mammoth Aztec-
calendarish circles of flimsy paper to keep from restocking it
hourly.

I also suppose that the reason for installing this elephantine
leviathan just inches shy of Machu Picchu elevation is to allow
those prodigious rolls of paper to be slipped into that gargantuan
structure without being hindered by the gymnast bar.

Alls I'm sayin' is...we're not ALL into weight-training and optimal
flexibility like some people, MABEL. We shouldn't have to work
out to be able to wipe our own nether regions.

Did I mention that this toilet paper dispenser is a little too big?

And with the restroom itself being constructed like a concrete box
for solitary confinement in a maximum-security prison, but without
the little slot to slide in a food tray, I can not even hope to reach
under a stall and ask Elaine if she can spare a square.

Have I told you how my life is a Seinfeld episode?