by Cassie Hall
The speech I'm going to give at work next week. I'll probably be wearing a trench coat.
|The toilet paper is stashed in the store's office, yet the bathrooms are devoid of toilet paper. It's bad out there. Everybody knows it's bad out there. I ask you: how, how are we to use the toilet paper, when we are locked, half naked, inside the bathroom stalls?
The air is unfit to breathe, and the disposable toilet seat liners are unfit to wipe with. I don't want you protest. I don't want you to write to your congressmen, because I wouldn't know what to tell you what to write.
The next time you find yourself scrounging your purses and your wallets for a minuscule scrap of paper, I tell you- I want you to first get mad! I want you to stand up on your your toilet seats. I want you to raise your fists in the air. I want you to lift your faces up to the fluorescent lights and shout, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!"