I woke up early one day last week to venture to the local Dollar General near my home in rural Chatham County. I had learned when the “paper” truck would be arriving and the shelves would be restocked. We are a family of three and have fought the urge to stock up on toilet paper. But we were down to two rolls.
I arrived at 7:30 a.m. to see a line already formed at the door. Several people wore masks and for the most part everyone was keeping a safe distance from one another. As the 30 minutes dragged on, more and more people began to line up. By the time the doors opened at 8, the line stretched around the parking lot.
Sadly, there were people who pushed their way through the door, nearly running down a gentleman who wore a mask and walked with the assistance of two canes. I waited, blocking the doorway, so that he could grab his cart. Those of us with mobility quickly moved directly to the paper aisle. It was nearly empty, with shelves being cleared by customers.
A sign on the shelf said “one per customer,” but neither the customers nor the staff seemed to be enforcing the limit. As others filled their carts with toilet paper, there were only two packages left at the back of a bottom shelf. Mind you, this was at about 8:02 a.m.
I went to grab one and an older gentleman tried to grab it at the same time. I handed the package to the older man. He looked so grateful. A younger man who went to grab the last package, looked at what I had just done and handed it to me. Now I was the one who was grateful.
In the end, I was able to get the few staples I was looking for — one package of toilet paper, coffee filters, paper plates and a half gallon of milk. No eggs, though; they come in on a different truck.
I mentioned my morning shopping experience to a friend who said, “Is this what it will be like living in a socialist society? Everything will be rationed?” I reminded him that we’re actually living under capitalism, supply and demand, a basic tenet. The demand, which is fueled by panic, is high. There is no command to produce more, so companies are continuing to produce at the same rate. And as the demand continues and the supply remains the same, the price of those commodities go up. Such was the case for the toilet paper — it was nearly $2 more than I would normally pay for the same package.
At the same time, I thought about humanity. I thought of those hoarding toilet paper out of fear and some sort of need to feel in control during a situation they have absolutely no control over. And then I thought about that look on that older man’s face when I handed him the toilet paper I had collected for myself. And how I can only control who I am and what I do under this new world we are all experiencing.
I am going to continue to think of others. Those who can’t get to the paper aisle as fast as I can. Those whose limited budgets won’t allow them to hoard a month’s worth of supplies.
We are adapting as a family. We are reducing the size and frequency of meals. We are reducing the paper products we use. And we are finding ways to make do with what we have. It’s the only way to flatten the supply and demand curve. And it may just help someone else.
