THE PLUNGER TALK

I'm just an average man with an average life
I work from 9 to 5, hey hell I pay the price
All I want is to be left alone in my average home
But why do I always feel like I'm in the twilight zone

 

I’m in a nice condo in Leith right now.  It’s small but everything is new and the TV is massive.  Walls are thin but I haven’t been kept awake by any sort of amourous grappling from the couple I live with.  The most contentious issue though in any of these arrangements is the bathroom.  Good bathroom etiquette is critical.  And there is no more crucial element in the bathroom than the toilet.

I’ve never been a big "hey-look-at-me-I'm-going- to-take-a-poop" guy.  I firmly believe that the act of launching a Cleveland Steamer should be done with as few people as possible aware of the event.  Some like to celebrate the act and even provide a post-mortem.  I don’t.  Not interested in discussions of this sort.  But sometimes it needs addressing.  When I moved into this place – and there was just the two of them living here – there wasn’t even a toilet brush in the john.  And they’d lived there for 4 months.  No brush.  No air freshener.  And most of all – no plunger.

How is it even possible to not have a bog brush.  How do you clean the bowl?  I sure as hell wouldn’t  be stickin’ my hand in there and scrubbing it with a sponge.  So one of my first acts when moving in was to buy a brush.  59p at ASDA.  Easy.  And obviously it enables you to leave things in a pristine state once you’re “done” there.  No one likes a skiddy bowl (although I have since learned that some here are okay with that – which is upsetting).  I just placed it in the bathroom with a can of air freshener and said nothing.  And nothing was said.

A plunger on the other hand is all together different issue.  The toilet brush solves superficial problems.  The plunger….goes much deeper.  And it’s not like I’d use one every day or week or month.  But goddamn, when you need a plunger…you need a plunger!  And there ain’t no substitution.  So I asked the roomies if there was one strategically hidden somewhere.  “No”.  End of discussion.  Alrighty then.  So I did what no one likes to do and that’s go and buy a plunger.  It’s not a dignified purchase.  “Hi.  I’m buying this because my toilet may or may not be clogged.  I’ll leave it to you to guess why.”  Anyway, it’s there and I feel better even if no one else does.

On another note, bathrooms here are just mental.  This condo building we’re in is only about 12 years old.  And yet to start the shower you have to pull a string that hangs from the ceiling.  Pull a fucking string to turn it on.  And pull a fucking string to turn it off.  Are you for real?  I would expect something of the sort at a UNICEF camp in Haiti - but never in the First World.  <-- although that label as it applies to the UK does seem a bit dubious at times.  Then there's the tap for the sink - jets of hot water shoot out one side of the faucet and jets of cold water shoot out of the other side.  So when washing your hands you're simultaneously scalding and freezing them - and spraying water all over your crotch.  

Honestly...