Toilet Roll Trauma

Having flown back in to Montreal last night from England I was feeling a bit dis-orientated, as is usual from all those hours in a plane with no in flight entertainment system (come on Air Canada – get your beautiful IFE onto every plane now!). Our lovely house-sitters had left the place in good shape, thanks to Malcolm & Max. Of course it wasn’t all plain sailing – somewhere in the mix we’d run out of loo roll, which didn’t sit at all well with my post-flight stomach.

So, braving the torrential rain, I set out to our local dep, stocked up on useful sundries such as sparkling mineral water, picked up some lovely Polish food from Stash and headed home. Happily only slightly damp I reached the front door where that nagging doubt from the dep kicked in fully, as I realised I’d forgotten to get loo roll… the whole reason for the trip. Splendid.

One big Polish meal later the rain subsided, so I wandered back to the dep and picked up some loo roll where I declined a plastic bag in the cause of the environment. Walking back past home past the upmarket resto-bars I realised there was was no way to look cool holding a pack of loo paper… Do you casually hang it from your hand? Tuck it under your arm? Balance it on your head and pretend to be from Cirque do Soleil? I guess celebrities like George Clooney et al don’t suffer this existential crisis having people to do this sort of thing for them, but I’d imagine that even they would find it hard to maintain their usual ‘effortless’ cool at this point and the paparazzi from have a field day. Luckily for me it was obviously too rainy for the paps to track me down, so I reached home safe and anonymous in my angst ready for a session of deep meditation.

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