Despite my prior hesitancy, I did, in fact, head out for a run yesterday.  And, at about two in the afternoon, the streets of New York were still surprisingly busy.  Though I was able to steer clear of anyone I saw by a margin of at least 15 feet, I ran past our local Trader Joe’s, where dozens of people were queued up outside, sandwiched together, waiting to enter a store I assume was even more densely packed inside.  We’re not exactly crushing this whole social distancing thing, apparently.

Then, late in the evening, when foot traffic had all but disappeared, Jess and I headed out together, walking down to a deserted Riverside Park.  Along the way, we crossed the street (or re-routed entirely) a few times, to avoid the rare handfuls of people (mostly in their teens and twenties) whom we did see.  As we both agreed, we’d never felt more like characters in a post-apocalyptic thriller.

Back home, we re-inventoried our food and supplies, and placed an Amazon order for the last few things we’d need (aside from, ideally, perishable food items nabbed on weekly grocery runs) to survive two months of lockdown.  Once those packages arrive, we should be good to go on everything.  Or, at least, everything but toilet paper.

As a result, I was up past midnight, Googling around, scouring outside-the-box options for some still-stocked Charmin.  But, despite my best efforts, all I found were gougingly-priced listings on eBay, and I’d sooner rinse my ass in the shower, bidet-style, each time I poop than pay $150 for a dozen rolls.

So, this morning, I headed out again, to see if I could find TP in any of the brick-and-mortar stores nearby.  Doing my best to give everyone wide berths, and wearing a single latex glove on my left hand (like an immunocompromised Michael Jackson) for anything I needed to touch (and using my phone solely with my clean, ungloved, and otherwise mostly pocketed right hand), I headed into nearly a dozen spots – grocery stores, pharmacies, hardware stores, bodegas.  And, in all of them, bupkis.

Fortunately, we’re still about a week and change from running out our current supply.  And I’m hoping the reporting – that we’re not facing an overall toilet paper inventory shortage, just distribution difficulties in getting it out quickly enough to keep up with spiked demand – means things should look less dire in a few days.

In the meantime, Jess has suggested we simply stop eating, which would eliminate both toilet paper and grocery restock concerns.  Which, indeed, has a sort of logic to it.  This is a tough time to be full of shit.