Much to my wife’s chagrin, I’m always looking at ways to cut costs. Even if we happen to have money (a rarity, especially over the course of the last seven months), I just can’t stand feeling like I’ve paid more for something than I really needed to. Of course, I don’t mind the occasional splurge on some things when our monetary situation allows, but especially on the household staples, I just try to find something that we both like, and then stick to it.
My wife likes the 12-roll packs of toilet paper, but I’ve been hesitant to spend $5+ all at once for that stuff, which pretty much leaves me with the smaller four packs that don’t last as long. I know, I know, the larger packs are the much better deal, and also last longer, but when the budget comes down to the last few dollars, I still hesitate to cough up that much. Besides, we still seem to go through any toilet paper we buy ridiculously quick because my wife likes to use up half a roll every time she uses the restroom, no matter what the reason.
So with this in mind, I was at the ol’ Dollar Tree searching for some TP, when I saw a couple choices side-by-side: they had the usual small four packs in plastic packaging, and then a single large toilet paper roll encased in paper. At first glance, I scoffed at the single roll, thinking there was no way there were as many squares on that as there were in the four packs, until I dug a little deeper. That’s when I discovered that the large roll did, in fact, have more sheets…about 100 more, to be exact. I felt like I had just discovered a new way to save money, and happily strutted to the front with two of these (as well as a basketful of unnecessary merchandise) in tow.
Then it all came crashing down. A couple of days later, my wife–queen of all toiletries–used it and ranted at me afterwards in pure disgust. All it took was a single glance and soft caress of the roll to see what her fuss was about: it looked about as rough as sandpaper, and felt as thin as a dryer sheet. At first, I kicked myself for not having paid attention to the “ply”, and thought that I had gotten a severely cheap single ply version, until I saw that there were, in fact, two layers per sheet. So this is somehow a two-ply toilet paper.
After using it myself, I have to begrudgingly admit that my wife was right: this stuff sucks. No matter how much of it you grab, it’s so thin that you still don’t feel like you have enough for the job. There’s also no level of comfort whatsoever…while it doesn’t quite feel like you’re using a barbed wire, it doesn’t feel all that good, either. Surprisingly, it hasn’t fallen apart in my hands yet, so it might be a little more durable than it first appears, but I will never purchase this again; I know to just stick to the four-roll if I ever find myself in dire straits in a Dollar Tree (although I must say even those are kind of expensive, as Aldi has rolled out their own four-roll “basic” toilet paper for $.59, and many store brands are already at $1, or less).
Overall: 2.5/10. This stuff is absolute junk. It’s paper-thin (even though it’s still technically two-ply) and offers no level of comfort whatsoever. And yet, for some reason, I pity it more than I hate it. It just feels like a product that served a purpose maybe twenty years ago, but that has sadly fallen behind the times–many store brands offer four-packs of (slightly) softer rolls for $1 or less (Aldi even sells their basic TP pack for a mere $.59). I don’t know, maybe business owners or hotels load up on these for their public restrooms, but short of that, I can’t see there being much of a demand for this kind of crappy toilet paper; I made the mistake of purchasing it once, but I’ll be sure to never fall for it again. Credit must be given considering, as cheap and thin as it feels, it’s never crumbled or fallen apart in my hands, which is certainly a plus in the world of toilet paper.