Why is it that toilet paper – usually one of the easiest things to buy – is almost impossible to find these days?

The answer is hoarding. There is no shortage, but it can’t be shipped to stores and stocked on shelves quick enough to meet an entirely unnecessary demand, driven by selfish oafs who can’t see past the ends of their noses.

Not that they care, but hoarders need to know they’re making life miserable for those who aren’t so predatory, and putting them in needless contact with people and stores they would otherwise avoid.

I’m wiped out from my fruitless search for toilet “tissue,” the term used by polite folk, which started just over a week ago, after it was apparent that huge amounts of it were being snapped up for no apparent reason.

There has been no run on food or life-sustaining staples during these dark times, but for reasons that defy explanation, a herd mentality has taken over. People are fearful, not just of the virus, but not being able to wipe their ass.

It is beyond ludicrous.

Shortly before the panic set in, I bought a 12-pack at No Frills, because it was on sale for around five bucks, to augment the few remaining rolls we had at home.

As media began reporting on the sudden shortage, I noticed that in every store, shelves had been stripped bare. Even papers towels were nowhere to be found.

As for hand sanitizer, which we should all be using and ought to be among the highest of priorities for retailers, I’d win the lottery before finding some. I’ve used hand sanitizer only a few times since this crisis began, because I can’t find any.

So I started entering a lot more grocery stores and pharmacies than I would otherwise, figuring that after the initial crush of pigs abated, common sense would kick in and I’d surely find some.

Fat chance.

Last Thursday, my heart skipped a beat when I spotted a woman wheeling a bundle buggy along Kingston Road, with two big packs of tissue, just steps from a No Frills. Bingo!

I rushed into the store to find an empty skid with a sign on it that said two per customer.

The next day, I pulled into the Guildwood Valu-Mart and saw a woman I recognized with a family-sized pack on top of her shopping cart. Today’s my lucky day!

I excitedly asked her about it. She said she got the last package.

Now I’m getting annoyed. My wife said don’t worry, we’ll find some. And she scolded me about exposing myself by going into too many stores.

That had the opposite effect. On Sunday, I went to upwards of 10 grocery and drug stores that stretched across the city, and still struck out.

I tried again Monday – our home stockpile had dwindled to seven rolls – entering half a dozen stores, but no luck. At the No Frills at Highway 401 and Port Union Road, an employee told me they had some that morning but it was snapped up in no time, even with a one-per-customer limit.

I talked to a nurse at a Metro store who had also lined up outside the door, hoping to buy some. She bought a jar of mayonnaise instead, saying she works nights, needs to sleep during the day and doesn’t have time to look after her family and chase toilet paper.

How often have people entered more stores than they should, exposing themselves to the virus while trying to buy a product that should be plentiful, if it wasn’t for people who already had a three-month supply and scooped another 12-pack just because they could?

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It’s disgusting, dangerous and entirely unnecessary. And I know that I’m far from the only one with the same frustrating dilemma.

My wife went shopping online and found some on Amazon – 10 rolls for $28.50. She started to place an order, but aborted when told that it would cost an additional $120 for shipping. That’s how badly the hoarders are trying to gouge us.

I’d like to hear from those who have similar stories to share about searching for toilet paper or hand sanitizer, and any tips they might have that would lead to success.

What’s broken in your neighbourhood? Wherever you are in Greater Toronto, we want to know. Email jlakey@thestar.ca or follow @TOStarFixer on Twitter