Have I told you about the bed sheet? Probably, but it came up again tonight...the bed sheet I flushed down a toilet while in jail. Totally true story. No, I am not proud of having spent time in jail. I have a past. Who doesn't? It is a long story, but I was there and it was a part of my life and I am, quite frankly, **tired** of all the dancing around the subject. Even years later. So, now you know. I was in jail. County jail. Very, very briefly.
But this is really about toilets and bed sheets and totally has to do with my toilet frustration. I am a frustrated toilet user. Outdoor latrines are unseemly and a real pain to dig, but in the end (see how I made a joke, there?) the issue of flushing is moot. When flushing is required, my personal preference is that massive amounts of water be available through a large pipe at high pressure. Now you can start laughing. I mean, you saw our last plumbing job with the water well.
With the advent of water conservation, "we" (in the royal sense) decided that using less water per flush would be a great idea. Academically, I whole-heartedly agree. Unfortunately, when I notified the persons in my household that they would have to consequently increase their urine output and decrease their fecal output--or decrease the consistency of their fecal output--they have been, well, less than cooperative. Buggers.
And plungers? Well, those aren't getting any better now that they have plastic handles, either.
And I swear the plumbing is shrinking...
And (here you should forgo any thoughts of me ever being ladylike about this) all I really want to be able to do is make a deposit and flush it and move on with my life. And the same for the rest of these yahoos 'cause I really hate having to plunge someone else's drift before I can use the facilities. Rule #4376 seems to be: NO, it NEVER goes down with the next flush. Meh...
Being the hyper-conscious and (believe-it-or-not) embarrassed sort, I tend to hover and see if all goes down the hole and even see if detritus remains and flush that before exiting the toilette. Not everyone has been raised this way. In fact, no one in generations contemporaneous or previous with/to mine in my household seems to have learned this in any permanent fashion. Or they are forgetting. Squib has been duly instructed and as a maniacal flusher he is quick to tell me the status of the flush whether successful or not.
The great thing about jail was the flushing. In fact, it was the only good or even remotely redeeming thing. I stood stock still in amazement when my cellmate said, "watch this!" She dipped a corner of a twin bed sheet in the toilet and flushed it in its entirety. It proceeded to suck the entire bed sheet down the stool in one furious, sucking roar magnificent to behold. My only response to that was, "I've got to try that!" I proceeded to flush my bed sheet down the stool. Two bed sheets (four bed sheets come to think of it) later, that toilet never sneezed or batted an eyelash. It was a beautiful thing to behold. Fantabulous. THAT's plumbing. And very little water involved in the process. None, in fact, in the bowl until you actually flushed--using, in part, the grey water from the sink and fountain above the stool.
These wishy-washy little three teaspoon flushers we have are really starting to irk me in a real and meaningful way. So far, no one thinks a sink/fountain/stool combo in a handsome stainless steel would quite keep up with the decor. I can't think why not...it's very SubZero...
I suppose you no longer want me as either your plumber or interior decorator...
Scat
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