And Thou Shalt Be Repaid 3-Ply

I have discovered something simply marvelous: 3-Ply Kleenex.

I'm sure that you're thinking "You're kidding, right? I use 2-ply, what difference can an extra ply make?

My friends, this third ply makes every difference. It is the stuff of dreams. It's a little like blowing your nose in a bedsheet. One of those really nice 17 hundred thousand thread count bedsheets.

Now, I am not an uncongested individual. In fact, I would refer to my olfactory expression as unbounded, given a suitably temperate environment. I have destroyed paper towels with a single vicious blow to their supple centers.

But this third ply, it rebukes even my most vehement expressions. It is the stuff from which legends are born.

A guy I work with borrowed one to take home to his fiancee, I presume to end his farce of a relationship, as she had never indulged him with such a wealth of ply.

But even more important than the what is the How. How, you must be asking yourself, how did I get this box of miracle material?

Did I go to some high-end supermarket, or order direct from the manufacturer? ("And add an extra ply to it," I might have said. "We already supply a second ply, sir," the attendant would respond, startled. "No no, my good man," I would reply, smiling knowingly, "I mean, of course, an extra extra ply," evoking naught but shocked silence followed by the telltale scribbling of genius on paper.)

No.

I gave my box of tissues to some dude I hardly know. Because he was sick. My crappy 2-ply stuff. He used all of them. This man was airplane sick.

This morning, I was startled to find myself repaid with more than double the cumulative layers I had originally given.

But it was more than just the count, let me assure you. It was this breathtaking triumvirate of assembled plies.

Another co-worker displayed, I believe, the most appropriate sentiment when, after requesting a tissue for himself, began ever so lightly... to cry.