A Year of Stories (Collection Three)

And Don't Forget the Toilet Paper

Bathroom

Now this is just my opinion, so take it for what it's worth, but when people pack for the Apocalypse, it seems to me that they don't spend enough time thinking about toilet paper.

That might sound like a strange thing to worry your noodle over, what with the world ending and all, but it isn't, not when you really think about it.

Look at it like this.

Try to imagine 10 million of your closet friends.

No really, give it a try.

I'll give you a second.

Did you do it?

Can you see them?

Can you see their hair and eyes, their shiny teeth and soft, supple hands?

Can you see them the way you saw them the last time you chatted at the super market, or made love?

Can you see them with your lover's eyes?

Good.

Now imagine 9,999,000 of these people dying in fire and ash. This isn't necessarily the way that they'll die, but it's a useful shorthand for the kind of horrific death that your average Apocalypse brings on.

Now that last thousand, which you are lucky enough to be a part of – lucky for no better reason than your skill at guessing random numbers when your government sends you emails about the end of the world – that last thousand are going to be trapped aboard a metal cylinder, about the size of a half dozen jet liners, strapped together end to end.

You will be trapped inside this goulash of steel and human flesh, floating out among the stars, until you're lucky enough to find some new ball of dirt that is at least marginally habitable.

For the years or decades it takes to find this rock, or to die in the cold emptiness of eternity, what do you think you're going to miss the most?

For my money, the answer is two-ply toilet paper and a toothbrush, the rest of this stuff be damned.

Bedroom

People overestimate the importance of the bedroom when preparing for the Apocalypse.

They think that because it's the place they stored all their important stuff when things were honky dory – when they had houses and baseball games and mistresses – that they should give special priority to it when they're packing for the end.

I think this is a big, steaming pile of horse manure.