I like books.


I live in a small town and enjoy writing about the inhabitants. I spend most of my time perusing through used book stores looking for that one great book that I don't have; consequently, I have rooms filled with books. I am a book addict.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

When a tail is a tell

So I attended the GSE dinner and membership drive. Now there’s this thing about Karma and how it always comes back. Well, about three decades back, I was sitting with my friends in Taco Bell and a very nice looking older woman pulls into the parking lot, made a bee line to the bathroom, and after a time, came out and walked back to the door. My friends and I laughed and laughed at her long white toilet- paper-tail that she had acquired in the bathroom. Oh, over and over we laughed and told the story. I know I’ve told it millions of times. I’ve never wondered why I didn’t take the woman aside and tell her she had a toilet-paper-tail; it certainly is something I’d want to know. Anyway, last night, my belt was cutting into me and so I went to the bathroom to fix the problem. It’s a belt my husband bought for himself and it is greatly too small for him, and when I figured out that my new pants were never going to stay up on their own, I utilized the belt. It’s been years since I’ve worn a belt, and I had forgotten that if it is too tight, it can eat at my skin. So, I undid the belt, and while there, I peed, and when I was pulling my pants up, something must have happened because later that night, I was walking past my Indian friend and he says, Zelda, you have toilet paper. I reached back and found a long tail of white toilet paper hanging from my belt. Oh horrors of horror. So, I’m thinking which was worse, being told that I had a tail, or not telling and my tail amusing people the entire night? BTW, if this had happened to me even ten years ago, I would have died of embarrassment; last night I grabbed the tail rolled it up and said, I should be embarrassed but not so much.


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