Using a notebook in ‘loo’ of paper

This column doesn’t hand out kudos very often but bouquets to Toowoomba Regional Council on the new public toilet block in the Neil Street Bus Interchange. Being one who only uses public loos in cases of emergency, I don’t tend to take much notice of such facilities but I found myself in just such an emergency this week and so I can attest to the quality of the product.

Perhaps there should be a warning here, particularly for those who may be reading this over breakfast, for the tale of woe which is about to be conveyed here following.

People of my age and older would remember the old saying of being “caught short” and such was the case on my walk back to the office from court which takes in a shortcut through the bus interchange.

However, naturally there will be a few teething problems with anything new and I soon found a potentially fatal flaw in the system upon entering a cubicle.

Now, I can readily understand the need for stainless steel pedestals which, although providing something of a cold shock at first, are serviceable and one can understand the lack of wood or plastic toilet seat which would last about five minutes before being ripped off by some loo vandal.

But after all, as I said these are for moments of emergency.

Yet, herein lies the problem which I realised far too late, that what was the flaw in the system.

You see, while there was sufficient loo paper provided, there was absolutely no way of extracting said paper from the receptacle affixed to the wall alongside the silver throne.

I poked, prodded and pulled but all that was made available was stamp sized bits of paper that wasn’t enough to cover tobacco for a “rollie” cigarette.

I can also understand why the paper holding receptacle has to be secure so visitors aren’t just opening it up and taking the paper.

After all, we all remember the great dunny paper scandal of the pandemic days.

So, there I sat in loneliness, racking my brain as to how to put all these little bits of toilet paper together to form at least one sheet appropriately large enough to complete the task.

Soon panic set in and I had visions of having to spend the night there, as comfortable as the new loo block is.

“Surely, when they come to lock up the place someone will afford me the appropriate provisions to complete my task so I can go home,” I thought to myself.

Fortunately, being a court reporter, I had my trusty notebook with me.

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

It’s just as well I’m an old fashioned journo who still uses a notebook, most of my younger colleagues don’t use notebooks anymore but record interviews and other proceedings on their mobile phones.

While recording interviews does help with accuracy, in the circumstances I doubt a mobile phone would have been sufficient for requirements.

And, before the Toowoomba Regional Councillor responsible for the water and sewerage portfolio comes a knockin’ on my door wanting to know why I flushed notebook paper down a public loo, I was very sparing in my use of said paper and ensured that it flushed properly.

I even used a page I’d previously scribbled notes on, which made it even softer and hence more flushable.

But, I may well have stumbled onto something for the next time a pandemic hits our shores and prompts the clearing of supermarket shelves of toilet paper by the panicked loo paper hoarders.

Maybe it would be cheaper and more convenient to go to Office Works and buy a notepad or two because I was able to accomplish the task at hand with just the solitary page from my notebook, ripped into quarters.

And, before I start getting letters and emails regarding this sordid episode, I know, I know, more than a few have told me in the past that I write crap anyway.