Have you ever asked the next stall over for some toilet paper?
It's an unfortunate, avoidable circumstance if you're proactive about checking before it's too late.
I know I've never asked for toilet paper from the next stall over without replaying the Seinfeld scene in my head before I do.
In a microsecond, it's Elaine's feet in black and white oxfords under the stall, then the back and forth banter of square sparing.
Never thinking it could happen to me, because that's ridiculous and I'd split my last square in half for any one of you, I asked the lady in the stall next to mine in the bathroom of a Little Rock restaurant for some toilet paper, please, this past weekend.
"Oh," was her answer. "I just don't have much."
I pause. "Really?"
"Yes," she replied. "There's just not much over here."
"Well, uh, O.K. then."
Several seconds go by and then up over the high stall floats a huge and crumpled wad of toilet paper, so much toilet paper that I couldn't go through it in seven days.
As I'm leaving the bathroom, I mutter a sarcastic thanks and think on my way back to my seat if there's any retaliation in order since the woman had to first deny me so that she could take inventory and check her own stores before considering my position.
I image Elaine running from the bathroom with toilet paper rolls falling from her arms. No squares to spare!
When I sit down at the table with my family I start to tell them what happened and they finish the story for me.
We were brought up on Seinfeld, and for good reason.
That show still offers some of the most exacting commentary on our nature I've seen, simply yet expertly woven through a variety of restaurant seating and traffic scenarios.
We are a strange species.