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Sunday, November 28, 2010

The Tidy Bowl Man

A few weeks ago my toilet wasn’t feeling well. The water kept running and wouldn’t shut off.

If I were the Tidy Bow Man in his motor boat cruising the lake of my toilet it would have seemed like a waterfall (not as powerful as Niagara) cascading down the side of the tank causing some rough waters. I worried the Tidy Bowl Man would be seasick, or worse, the waters would be too rough and capsize his little boat.

I immediately called the landlord and after a few attempts he finally diagnosed and supposedly fixed the problem. For a couple of weeks the waters were calm, and when I lifted the lid I could see the Tidy Bowl Man happily singing “Shiver Me Timbers” and other nifty nautical songs.

I did notice the water level wasn’t as high as it normally was, but I assumed it was because of the new part the landlord installed. My toilet was being green, saving water and helping save the environment. I wanted to call Al Gore and tell him I was doing my share.

Thinking I was being green wasn’t what was really happening. Oh no... my toilet tale is about to take a bad turn...

I flushed the other day and as the toilet did it’s thing I heard a high-pitched “oohing.” It wasn’t a happy “oohing.” It was desperate, scary “oohing.”

I looked in the toilet and there was no water. The tank had not refilled. The Tidy Bowl Man was no where to be found. I called out his name. I yelled “Shiver Me Timbers.” I banged SOS on the side of the tank.

The water never returned. Not a drop.

The Tidy Bowl Man was flushed to the sewers. Gone. All that was left was his little sailor hat that lay lonely against the dry white porcelain.

RIP Tidy Bowl Man.

I should sue the landlord for negligent toilet skills.

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