True Stories, A Funny Story About The Worlds Most Travelled Toilet!
I don't like Eternity for Men!
True stories are always the best. This is a homage to an old friend, the worlds most travelled loo, the mercy seat forgiveth! I am sure you will enjoy this funny story, however, at the time, living with pinkie wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. Don't know what I mean? Well, read on!
Splish, splash… oops! That expensive bottle of aftershave given to ‘him’ at Christmas has mistakenly disappeared down the bowl of our pink toilet. It seemed impossible that this could happen – a miracle actually – but it certainly happened!
It must have positioned itself perfectly for the disappearance down said u-bend. I can only imagine that ‘Eternity for Men’ is stuck somewhere in the sewage system, never to be seen again. One day, it could even be one of those archaeological finds – o.k. far fetched, but you’ll never know!
It is always the same with trade’s people, anything to do with cost and repair assessment, I await the usual behaviour, always with trepidation!
‘He’, it later transpired, had cracked my pink loo. The dropping process of said aftershave had done irreparable damage to the porcelain bowl. The crack was not enough to sustain any watery contents from oozing. Being the only toilet in the house, this was somewhat problematic especially with two young children. Thank goodness they were both still in nappies! Of course, after this abusive action to the lavatory, ‘he’ had to go to work.
Funny how convenient work can be when there is a crisis (alright, not as in world crisis, but was a problem that needed a quick solution)? So, while ‘he’ was working I organised a plumber. With the usual ‘sharp intake of breath’ with hand on chin, there doubted in the plumbers eyes. It is always the same with trade’s people, anything to do with cost and repair assessment, I await the usual behaviour, always with trepidation! The news was not good. Matching a pink toilet to the rest of the suite was going to be difficult.
Clumsy ole ‘him’ I thought. Why couldn’t he have splish splashed away from the loo? Things are never straightforward. It didn’t seem that hard – buy a loo, take out the old and install the new. Gee, no, MY LOO had to be a slightly different shade of pink to the standard pink loos. Now ‘discontinued’ – I hate that word… it always insights trouble – a toilet will need to be tracked from somewhere from the back of beyond. However, the plumber said that he would check out his connections – as if plumbers have this secret society of nodders, winkers and sharp intake of breathers.
I can picture in my mind’s eye these men in long macs, peering sideways to each other, nudging and winking, saying “Ear… you know of any, err, pink toilets going?”
All wasn’t lost, though. The ‘in the know’ plumber suggested that I could claim off my buildings insurance. The loo was a fixture and fitting and was categorised as covered. Phew, I thought. Money was tight with a big mortgage, only one working and a growing family – at last some good news! So, armed with a quote, off I went to speak to the insurance company.
To my surprise, it was easy to claim and I was given the go ahead. They wanted me to keep the old loo, for future evidence – just in case they needed to send someone to check the claim. So within the week, the plumber had gone undercover, picked up new pinkie and installed it. La de la de la… happy, happy, happy!
Pinkie Saw the wonders of Glastonbury and Cheddar Gorge!
It was six weeks after ‘he’ had positioned old pinkie outside the front door of our house. It became a feature in our street. People must have found this amusing and it must have provided much entertainment to many. The intention was to take it around the back, but ‘in a minute’ just didn’t happen! Enough was enough.
I cleared with the insurance company to rid us of offending loo. After another week, I picked it up from our front door – it is amazing how your body can raise strength when peeved – and dumped it in the boot of ‘his’ car. ‘He’ had agreed to get rid of this a week ago, on the way to work. Now the loo was firmly booted, he had no excuse. Every time he opened his boot, it would remind him. The pink toilet from hell will haunt his every movement.
Pinkie must have been in toilet heaven. Over the next six months it was taken shopping. It was taken back and forth daily on the M25 from Milton Keynes to Watford. It took a trip to Manchester to see his mother and even went on holiday in the New Forest. I think ole pinkie enjoyed the trip to Burnham on Sea the best. It saw the wonders of Glastonbury and beautiful Cheddar Gorge.
Why doesn't anyone notice me?
Nothing more was said to ‘him’ about dumping the toilet. I resigned myself to our new addition to the car fixture. Others would be surprised to see a toilet in the back of ‘his’ car but it was as if it had become ‘normal’ for us. We couldn’t really see it anymore; it was as if it was invisible.
It was coming up to Christmas. There was a lot of shopping. We couldn’t fit it all in – the lavatory had taken up too much room. Something had to go. Was it the shopping or the loo? It was a hard choice to make but ‘he’ decided it was time to part from old pinkie. ‘He’ had had enough and the relationship had irretrievably broken down. It had to go! So, much to the distress of those around it, ‘he’ duly sent it to that resting place in the dump. We never heard from pinkie again. Homeless, destitute and without a family, the most travelled loo was no more.
So here you are, the world’s most travelled loo, the mercy seat, has left this mortal coil. I want to dedicate this to pinkie. We will never forget you.
This work is covered under Creative Commons License
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