From: Jihad 
Subject: Grit


...every day, and in every way, we're getting better and better....

There is a thing that I overheard this morning, and it changed my 
world--so I thought to pass it along to you all.

It's like this:

You know, it's an odd place wherein I work. At first glance, it might seem
to be just another high-tech joint, but beneath the exterior lies manifold
strangeness. Maybe all high-tech joints are this way; I have to admit that
I wouldn't know, having worked in far too few of them to assemble any
material for generalizations. 

But that's sort of beside the point. This place is strange, in any case.

In particular, I've noticed that the bathrooms around here can be very,
very odd places. Now, they can be havens of sanctuary, as well--some of
you all may recall that it was to the bathroom that I fled to hide when I
heard about the Lost Tribe of LAN. Of course, the vast majority of the
time, nothing at all out of the ordinary comes to pass, but
sometimes...well, you just never know what you're going to find when you
step into the water closet hereabouts. 

For instance, today...'twas about 9:00, and I'd wandered into the
bathroom. There were a couple of guys hanging out in there--engineers--who
were taking their time at washing their hands. This happens all the time
around here; it's an established company, and nobody seems to feel
compelled to hurry much. As these engineers rinsed, so also they talked,
and I, having nothing else to occupy my higher brain functions, listened. 

As it turns out, they were discussing...of all things, the toilet paper.

"Hey," said one guy, completely without preamble, "have you noticed 
they've changed the toilet paper around here lately?"

"How could you miss it," the other replied. "The new stuff is rough as
hell. Probably cheaper; I guess they're trying to save money again." 

"Yeah, to hell with the employees, as usual," the first continued. "But,
God--this is pretty far out. Hell, it was rougher than it used to be, even
before this. Now, though--it's bad enough now that you can see little
chips of wood in it. I'm serious--have you ever looked at that shit?" 

"Damn straight, now that you mention it" said the other. "You know, I saw
the box it comes in the other day, and I swear to God it had a 'grit'
rating on it. It said, like, '100-grit', or something--like that stuff you
use to strip paint." 

"Jesus, don't you know," said the first guy, with infinite reproach, as he
dried his hands on a paper towel. "Damned if this stuff isn't softer," he
continued, crumpling the paper towel. 

"Yeah," the other agreed. "I wonder if they think they've found the goose
that laid the golden egg. Every time the budget falls short, they buy
cheaper toilet paper and stick it to us again." 

The first guy chuckled. "It wouldn't suprise me one bit. At this rate, you
know, pretty soon it's going to be down to 'Grit 0' or something, and
they'll just have a damned block of wood sitting in there by the toilet.
Or maybe a big wooden spoon." 

"You bet--sounds about right. The 'high-tech solution.'"

"Damn. What'll they think of next."

"Well...I guess they could always make a big, reuseable loop out of it,
they way they used to do with cloth hand towels. Then it wouldn't cost
ANYTHING, beyond the initial investment...." 

With that, they passed through the door and went on about their business. 
I must confess that it took me a bit longer, though. That conversation was
so bizarre, and so caustically hilarious, that I laughed like I haven't
laughed in months--perhaps longer than that. Indeed, some time passed
before I stopped shaking and caught my breath again. 

Maybe it doesn't translate, but this came as a rare amusement to my 
warped and desperate mind.

You know, I've heard laughter called the "best medicene" all my life. 
Perhaps that's so--in any case, it's proved to be a hell of a therapy for
the downward spiral of my thoughts. 

Changed my world, indeed.