Coronavirus QLD: Why I bought toilet paper out the boot of a car at a servo

I looked around furtively. How had it come to this? The deal done we quickly parted. I went back to the car and threw it in the back seat. I looked at my wife and smiled. “Just drive,” she said.

So there I was at a servo buying toilet paper out of the boot of this guy’s car.

A song came to me – AC/DC’s Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.

My wife was still in the car and I could see her mouthing, “WTF?”

How had it come to this? Well, we had done a sweep of our local supermarket and found no dunny rolls for sale.

So, dropping our son at his apartment in Spring Hill, we thought we would do a sweep of his local.

Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Until we saw someone with a toilet roll, a single toilet roll. Apparently they were handing them out, one per person. Like jail.

We had heard that certain supermarkets had put security on the toilet paper section and my son reckons he heard of some shelf stackers having a police escort.

As a former shelf stacker myself (in my students days you understand) I felt some sympathy for the poor buggers.

Who wants to stack the shelves with toilet paper nowadays when you might get attacked in the process?

With our single toilet roll, we drove on and then stopped to get petrol.

Just on the off chance, I suggested my wife do a sweep of the servo shop to see if they had any loo paper or hand sanitiser while I filled up the tank.

Brisbane News columnist Phil Brown. Photo: AAP/ Ric Frearson

She came out a couple of minutes later shaking her head. I was annoyed because I had been in that very servo at the start of the crisis and they had stacks of the stuff, but I was too proud to buy any then.

Who wants to be seen going back to the car laden with packs of toilet paper?

Anyway, I went inside to pay for petrol and nodded g’day to the bloke behind the counter.

I have been going to this servo for years and we have got to know each other along the way although I won’t tell you his name because I don’t want to incriminate him.

I paid the bill and as I was about to leave he looked around and said, in a hushed tone: “Hey Phil, do you need any toilet paper?”

I looked around too, I’m not sure why.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do,” I said.

“I can get you some if you like.”

“You have a private stash?” I asked.

He nodded and said under his breath: “Meet me out front, I have some in my car.”

So I went out and he popped the boot. I looked around again, furtively.

He produced a pack of 20 rolls from the boot of his car.

“That’s gold,” I said as I grabbed it. “How much?”

“Just give us 10 bucks,” he said. He could have got $50 but we were friends.

The deal done we nodded and quickly parted. I went back to the car and threw it in the back seat. I looked at my wife and smiled.

“Just drive,” she said.