Figuratively and literally.
Thanks to all the hysterics in Echuca-Moama I had no toilet paper last week.
Once my final roll disappeared and I was left standing, with a very full bladder, in three empty aisles, I was forced to use tissues followed by uncomfortably stiff paper towels.
But apparently they’re dwindling too.
It’s a total wipe out.
Fears of the dreaded coronavirus have sent people into a loo roll buying frenzy.
On social media last week, top trending hashtags included #toiletpapergate and #toiletpapercrisis.
What is actually going on in people’s heads to think if there was an outbreak here toilet paper would be the first to go.
If it was me, I would be stocking up on chocolate, wine and perhaps some non-perishable foods and bottles of water. I mean, necessities first people.
So why are people panic buying poo tickets?
Are they stockpiling for a self-imposed quarantine lockdown, or do they think explosive diarrhoea will be the first symptom?
Another theory someone spruiked was people think toilet paper is made in China and they’re worried the factories will shut down. But that doesn’t make sense. Wouldn’t you be avoiding the poo tickets then?
What most people don’t understand is one of the biggest brand of bog rolls is made in South Australia.
A psychologist has attributed this en masse shopping madness to herd behaviour – and with no medical experience beyond a few operations I tend to agree.
Too many sheep and not enough shepherds. They see everyone else doing it, so they follow suit. It goes viral, much like the disease.
And it’s not just one or two packets.
Customers are selfishly filling their trollies with five or six packets, forcing some supermarkets to enforce a four-pack buying limit.
And then normal people like myself who are buying toilet paper because they actually need it are labelled as crazy.
Last week, hustlers were flogging dunny paper online for hundreds of dollars, while radio stations were running competitions to win packs of three-ply rolls.
Even more alarming was police being called to a supermarket after a shopper allegedly pulled out a knife over a toilet roll dispute.
Seriously.
Before we know it, toilet paper will be on the black market and we’ll be doing dodgy toilet roll deals in the back alleys of Echuca-Moama.
Farmers will be locking rolls in their gun safes.
And I’ll be writing about burglaries where crooks are breaking into people’s home and stealing nothing but wipes – for bums.
Honestly, the only good thing about the moon floss madness is the memes.
They have provided much entertainment on social media, giving me lots of good belly laughs.
But I mustn’t laugh too hard. A 40-plus woman with two or more children has to be careful of the domino effect on the waterworks.
And right now, if that does happen, I’ll be forced to use the leaves I have stockpiled from my garden.
12°C