When Judgy McHypocrite Runs Out of Toilet Paper

I have no idea how this happens, or WHY SO OFTEN, but I run out of toilet paper all the time.  Sometimes I resort to such measures as the half-empty kleenex pack from my purse, and sometimes, if I'm very lucky, I'm saved by the basement bathroom, and find a partial roll.  One such night, as I was cleaning in preparation for a visit from family, I remembered I was out of TP minutes before they were set to arrive.  That half-roll wasn't going to cut it.

I booked it to the grocery store located a block-and-a-half away. In my haste, I forgot that I was wearing threadbare pajama pants over leopard print underwear, and a sweatshirt.

When I was heading down the aisle, with the MONGO MEGA pack of 12 triple rolls, (and some coffee filters, popcorn, and french bread) I saw some pathetic lady fingering the sweatshirt rack. "What a nerd," I judged and laughed to myself, "who buys a sweatshirt at the grocery store?"

Before the mean haggy thought completed itself in my brain, I remembered the sweatshirt I was wearing. The Lake Nokomis sweatshirt.  That I bought from that very same rack.  Then I really laughed out loud. An old man looked at me, and obviously wanted to know what I was laughing at, but it was too hard to explain.

("Hey Kettle, this is Pot.  You're Black.")