Warning: The following column contains potty humor

I need to state up front that some of you may find the subject matter of today's column offensive or in bad taste. By continuing to read, you agree not to hold it against the author, though you may otherwise continue to “hold it” to the extent necessary to finish the column.

Or not. That is your call...

Today I am coming to you from the commode. Figuratively speaking, of course.

You see, I have taken an interest in t-p (toilet paper, for those less technically inclined).

Why?

Good question. In fact, I am still asking it of myself as I write this column.

I guess I can trace my interest to a recent conversation I had with a group of friends. The upshot of this discussion was that toilet-paper users (in other words, most of civilized society) fall into one of three distinct (as opposed to “da stink”) categories. To wit: Rollers, Folders and Scrunchers.

Rollers -- These aren’t religious fanatics, but rather people who wrap t-p around their hand or fingers, forming a sort of mini-roll, before application.

Folders -- These people fold their t-p back and forth, making a stack of squares, prior to usage.

Scrunchers -- These are people who pull a length of t-p from the roll, then proceed to scrunch it up into a bunch before putting it to work down below.

It’s rather curious to think that all of society can apparently be grouped into one of these three categories. It also leaves me with a number of important questions.

For instance, how do people decide which they are going to be? Are they influenced by their parents during potty training?

“No, no, no, Son. In this house we scrunch. We don’t fold, and we definitely don’t roll.”

Do they try out each method to see which works best?

“But Dad, I tried scrunching, and sometimes it makes thin spots that, well, you know….

Can’t I just go back to folding?”

Do people ever change teams, so to speak?

“Oh, hey, Bob, I see you’re a folder. You know, I used to be a folder myself, but recently I converted to scrunching. It’s a heckuva lot faster…. What’s that? Oh, sorry, I’ll shut the door now.”

I also wonder whether the method one selects after making number two says something profound about you.

For instance, I might infer that scrunchers are free-spirited, carefree people who don’t sweat the small stuff. I imagine most of the people who attended Woodstock were scrunchers (assuming, that is, they could even find t-p).

“Hey, dude, there’s no toilet paper left in the port-o-john.”

“I know, man. You have to use these dead leaves.”

“But dude -- you can’t scrunch dead leaves!”

On the other hand, folders would appear to be a highly analytical, possibly even neurotic, group of potty soldiers. In fact, I would bet most folders leave the bathroom knowing exactly how many squares they used.

“Hey, Tom, I’ve never seen you leave the men’s room so happy?”

“Oh, that’s because I just set a personal best -- five squares!”

And then there are the rollers, wrapping t-p round and round their fingers. These are likely to be middle-of-the-road personalities, neither uptight like folders nor free-spirited like scrunchers. But I do wonder one thing: How do they know when to stop rolling? Is it by the number of revolutions, the amount of elapsed time, or perhaps divine intervention?

“Honey, I just replaced the toilet paper roll, and now it’s almost empty…”

“Oh, right, I’m sorry. I usually roll for five seconds, but somehow I lost track of time.”

Based upon these definitions, it occurred to me that I might be able to categorize a number of celebs and public figures.

Jennifer Lopez -- Scruncher.

Ben Affleck -- Folder.

George W. Bush -- Roller.

Robin Williams -- Major Scruncher.

Martha Stewart -- Queen of the Folders. In fact, I imagine she folds her t-p into pretty origami shapes prior to wiping.

Michael Jackson -- Wacko Jacko appears to be the one person who doesn’t seem to fit into one of the three categories. I would bet he’s been holding it in since leaving the Jackson Five. Actually, that might explain a lot.

As for me? Well, let's just say my personal best is seven.

Copyright 2003 Marc L. Prey
All rights reserved.