Thursday, June 11, 2009

Of Human Bondage (To Human Toilets)

“I need to tell you something, and I know this might sound a bit disturbing (pause) but it’s very possible that the prior owner of this condo replaced her old toilet with a refurbished one.”
–realtor, phone conversation prior to closing, 2003

Although common sense was never assumed to be widespread, common courtesy, its more easily learned cousin, requires little in the way of intelligence. When applied to the real estate market, if a sensible person were to knowingly list their house with a broken toilet, they might arrange for a replacement (or at very least, a reduction in price) as a condition of sale. And no, in a quest for that porcelain proxy, trolling white trash yard sales or ghetto fabulous scrap heaps – those venues of toothless impropriety – is never an acceptable solution. Said differently, risking one’s life while eluding dangerous simpletons (whether rabid junkyard managers or rabid armies of redneck inbreds), does not trump a Home Depot visit, despite perceived cash savings.

While “pre-owned” might be a cute moniker to slap on an older Lexus, when applied to crappers the term references (at worst) vindictiveness, or (at best) mental retardation on behalf of the seller. After all, I’m fairly sure that Jim Bob didn’t institute a twelve point inspection before drop kicking his thunderbox to the curb after deeming it unworthy of his own ass. And if this unflushable atrocity was doomed to lie sideways amongst empty boxes of Meister Brau while neighborhood hooligans disgraced it in a series of post-midnight, performance art shows, then no amount of refurbishing would allow me to comfortably drop drawer in its dishonored presence. Even if an industry-sanctioned check did exist, the notion of some obese bowl czar kicking the proverbial tires – ottoman in tow – after gorging himself on a magnum of beans raises the comfort level nary a few notches. Nobody wants a construction-grade Port-o-Potty nailed crudely into their bedroom closet as a “seller’s compromise,” and nobody wants a past-prime john languishing sadly in their loo-to-be, regardless of how proud it made somebody’s daddy feel thirty years ago.

The slovenly loon who unloaded her ramshackle condo upon me and my wife was a few flushes short of sane (see “My Mortgage Can Beat Up Your Mortgage” from April 27). And while her two bathroom unit claimed only one working toilet, she assured her realtor of a replacement fixture. Lest you view me as spoiled, I wasn’t expecting a reclinable, cheek warming, bidet equipped Japanese model that might or might not brew coffee, toast bread, or auto fellate. Rather, a seat and a tank would suffice. After all, my trips to the pool are quick and efficient; no spa-like half hour escapades or magazine perusal necessary. What I received, however, was a bargain basement low-boy which had seen the derriere prints of many a man since the Carter presidency. On the plus side, I suppose I was lucky she hadn’t left me with an upper-decker, that defiantly hard to locate floater and the plumbing equivalent of a double middle finger flip.

Nevertheless, when a tiny perfume bottle dove squarely onto the tank – creating a hairline fracture-cum-chasm which snaked angularly and converted my bathroom into an Old Faithful mock-up – I was secretly elated. David, smaller than a church mouse, so quietly unassuming in his perfume holding perch above the towel rack, had finally toppled Goliath, the menacing juggernaut of unwiped asses and thoughtless prior owners. Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, I was free at last. And boy, was it liberating knowing that my shiny new throne was one butt crack away from installation.

Regarding disposal (for those not intimately involved with their commodes), there exists no way to physically transport an unboxed toilet from point A to point B without looking like a maladroit lummox; especially if point A is a second floor condo, and point B is the communal garbage shed, located at the bottom of a steep incline. That said, if one believed himself to be a conquering hero, freed from the yoke of used toilet bondage, he might happily laugh off unfunny jokes while alternately pulling, dragging, and lifting his potty en route to the dumpster; a leaky trail of backwater its final tears. Whether charitably gifted to some fleabag hostel or sealed with Bondo and refurbished anew, my nemesis had passed on ... possibly to the benefit of oversexed college travelers, or possibly to the chagrin of your new neighbors.

Or possibly, dear reader, to you. And that kind of unknown quantity almost makes diapers look good again.

29 comments:

bluntdelivery said...

1. when my uncle had to get a new toilet, he set his in the front yard. after people continually asking what it was there for, he finally planted a Geranium in it.

2. a cheek warmer. oh God help me, I'm sure I couldn't imagine anything more delightful.

MVD said...

"he finally planted a Geranium in it"

Clever. And the tank must make a great window box in warmer months.

"a cheek warmer. oh God help me"

Actually, Brit, there's an extensive Wikipedia article devoted to "Toilets In Japan." In fact, the below link shows a "wireless toilet control panel," proving that white people will never beat Asians in the war of technological advancement.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Wireless_toilet_control_panel_w._open_lid.jpg

f8hasit said...

Nothing like a new crapper.
I coincidentally just installed one yesterday! My old one wasn't toppled by Goliath, I just didn't like it. And the excuse of having to remove it to install a new floor was all I needed to put a new one in.

Justification.

I love that word.
:-)

Enjoy your new throne!

MVD said...

Thanks Nancy! Unfortunately, since upgrading from condo to house, I've once again abandoned the luxury of new crappers. Unlike the condo, however, this abode's prior owner was extremely clean. I have no qualms over inheriting her thrones.

And the so-called wax seal used to install toilets is one of the most disgusting objects (among many) in plumbing.

Chris said...

Although you claim your trips to the pool are quick and efficient, I'm guessing that would be changed by a commode with your suggested "auto fellate" attachment. What a grand idea. Would sure give the phrase "going to the head" a different tone, now, wouldn't it?

MVD said...

"I'm guessing that would be changed by a commode with your suggested "auto fellate" attachment"

Hey Chris - If I was the slightest bit mechanically inclined, I'd apply for a patent. Of course, anything of that ilk is doomed to be sold in the back rooms of head shops and novelty warehouses only. And who the hell would trust some bong-toking dread-head with an Associates degree in poetry to install their toilet?

Anonymous said...

As has been previously noted by The Bastard, he only reluctantly drops trough away from home. Indeed, I do not think “phobia” is too strong a word to use when describing his aversion to sitting on another person’s toilet. It is therefore understandable that The Bastard places a high premium on toilet bowl cleanliness – both past and present. (Although entirely irrelevant, I will note for the record that I can and will drop trough anytime anywhere. The only toilets I tend to avoid are at old-school gas stations, i.e., toilets that are only accessible from outside the station. To gain access to these toilets typically requires asking the station attendant for a key, which is often attached to an old tire for safekeeping.) But it seems to me that simply changing the toilet seat cover would alleviate most of the concerns expressed in this blog entry. Was this done? A somewhat related question: if no other options existed, would The Bastard choose an old toilet with a new seat cover or a new low-flow toilet that requires 3+ flushes each time you use it?

MVD said...

In the interest of brevity, I declined to point out that yes, the aforesaid bowl was fully disinfected, and yes, it was a new seat (after all, I am not insane). The point is, this old crow disrespected me by purchasing a used toilet, thereby exploiting a loophole in her promise to replace the broken one.

And based on my predilection for clogging commodes (it's hereditary, trust me), I'd probably do well to have a Canadian high-flush model shipped in illegally. Yes, illegally, as pointed out by the below article. Thank you Canadians, for your Molson, lumber, and toilets.

I'm pretty much done with the green environmental movement. No offense, folks.

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,996507,00.html

Pamela said...

A shorter route from Point A to Point B would have been a simple toss off your back deck. That's the way we do things in our house.

Your lucky that old bag that sold you the condo didn't install a chemical toilet Kamp Kronin Style.....yeah, I know about that.

Matt Shea said...

Mike, if David had known his eventual fame would lead to a role holding toilet soaps and perfumes above your naked posterior, I'm pretty sure he'd have just dropped the sling and let Goliath rip his arms off.

As for toilet decoration - I would appreciate a fish tank in the cistern or something along those lines.

Also, love the 'lummox' - I too rediscovered that gem this week.

MVD said...

"A shorter route from Point A to Point B would have been a simple toss off your back deck."

Well, Pam, I'd have been more than happy to break every rule in the condo binder by tossing the bowl from my back deck to the garbage shed. I was concerned, however, that my strength was so great as to risk having the thing catch wind and launch into lunar orbit.

"Your lucky that old bag that sold you the condo didn't install a chemical toilet"

For those unaware, my buddy's father has a vacation cottage wherein he eschews the miracle of indoor plumbing to do his dirty work in a portable chemical toilet. This is affectionately known as "My Chemical Romance." I keep threatening to use that thing each summer, but somehow the privilege is always denied. To date, I’ve accidentally knocked it off its perch but once in a heinously misjudged elbow bump.

MVD said...

"if David had known his eventual fame would lead to a role holding toilet soaps and perfumes above your naked posterior, I'm pretty sure he'd have just dropped the sling and let Goliath rip his arms off"

Absolutely hilarious, Matt. To make matters worse, this bathroom was fitted with an enormous mirror, forcing one to stare directly at his (entire) person while urinating. It had all the appeal of some narcissistic architectural abortion from Bob Guccione's guest house.

Jen said...

You crack me up, per usual. The family we bought the house we live in now was "a few flushes short of sane" as well. For such a beautiful house, the wife (who did not work) never cleaned. I mean never cleaned. She must have just done enough to make things look good enough for the walk throughs but as soon as we made the deal she stopped, apparently with no shame until they moved out. I informed my husband that we would be getting 3 new toilets, regardless of condition of the old ones. There was no way I was putting my bare ass anywhere near those things, let alone my entire body fully enshrouded in a sealed Hazmat suit. All carpeting was pulled up as well. Now my germy obsessive/compulsive side is coming out.

Anonymous said...

You will never have the privilege of using My Chemical Romance Toilet due to your predeliction for clogging bowls. If you clogged MCRT I would have no choice but to burn the cottage down, as the thought of cleaning up your toxic stew repulses me.

Suldog said...

You have been mentioned at my place. Said mention may or may not come with an award attached. Do with this information what you will.

Ron said...

Hey, MVD...commenting on your responsed about Toilets in Japan...

...while I lived there, I found it delightful that A LOT of their restrooms had toilets in which you stood (whether peeing or pooping) so there was no "sitting" involved. At first, it took some getting use to. But after awhile I began to feel like a bomber pilot dropping turds!

It was FUN!

MVD said...

"All carpeting was pulled up as well."

Hey Jen - In that same condo, we were also forced to pull up the carpet (and subsequently have hardwood floors installed where only plywood existed), because our loony prior owner apparently had an equally loony cat with an on-again/off-again litter box relationship.

MVD said...

"If you clogged MCRT I would have no choice but to burn the cottage down"

With all due respect, this sounds incredible. Please ensure that I receive an invitation.

MVD said...

"I found it delightful that A LOT of their restrooms had toilets in which you stood (whether peeing or pooping)"

As I've said many times in this space, Ron, the efficiency of the Japanese extends light years beyond their Caucasian counterparts. There's perhaps nothing more masculine then standing upright, hands on hips, during the process of "evacuation."

bluntdelivery said...

ugh. the asians are going to take over the world. not just in toilet technology. trust me. i hate asia

MVD said...

"the asians are going to take over the world. not just in toilet technology"

Brit, their sushi is quite good. And while I can't personally attest to this, the back-room massage business seems to have found its footing in the states with impressive success. And, well, who doesn’t like to throw around a few firecrackers every now and then to celebrate freedom? So perhaps you're right.

Out-Numbered said...

Dude. That picture makes me want to go camping. Awesome post.

MVD said...

"That picture makes me want to go camping."

Funny, because that picture makes me wants to avoid camping, by any means necessary. There could be a bear cub in that hole for Christ sakes.

Theresa said...

I had no idea they even made "refurbished" toilets. Thanks for sharing with us that you are a quick dropper in the can. But are you regular? Anyway, the picture you posted reminds me of a house I had a case on. Believe it or not, the occupants were crapping in holes in the backyard. The only difference was, they must have brought the roll in and out with them, because there was only pieces of used toilet paper next to the hole.

MVD said...

"they must have brought the roll in and out with them, because there was only pieces of used toilet paper next to the hole"

Oh, well at least they had common sense. There's nothing worse than a post-thunderstorm sopping roll of TP. Hopefully you let these innovators off the hook with a small fine and slap on the wrist.

Portable Toilets said...

You can solve the problem by leasing a portable toilet...or go to popular or bass pro and get a porta potty

MVD said...

"You can solve the problem by leasing a portable toilet"

Ah, Portable Toilets, thank goodness you stopped by with this craptastic suggestion. Since I'm only leasing the thing, I’d rather not empty the family lockbox to secure an indoor plumbing connection. Can you run a tube into my recycle bin? Or better yet, just nail the potty to my mailbox post and drape a shower curtain around it. Thanks in advance.

porta potty rental said...

Portable toilet will solve your problem :)

Porta Potty Rental said...

Rent a portable toilet...My solution for this problem

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