The toilets in the women’s bathroom of my place of business have a chronic issue where the chain connecting the flushing lever to the whatever the hell that thing is called that allows for flushing comes disconnected. It’s so bad that a coworker and I periodically have to fix the problem with a plastic coated paper clip.
I am no stranger to the task of fixing this issue. Seemingly, we are the only two who bother. I’m assuming the people who don’t attempt to fix it think that the maintenance department does, but HAHA jokes on them. The maintenance department doesn’t even bother with the paper clip trick. They just say, “Oh, the chain is disconnected,” and reconnect it. I tell them, “Um, no, the chain is insufficient and the hook sucks.” Blank stare. “Wut?” So in the mean time, we MacGyver the thing into submission.
So I went into the bathroom to do bathroom things and upon attempting to flush the toilet, I found that it was once again off the chain. Incidentally, I also noticed that whoever had gone to the bathroom before me decided to leave their business in there and not attempt to do anything about the ailing flusher. I am picturing doing a Whodunit kind of interrogation of the lab women to figure out the culprit in as dramatic a way as possible. But that will have to wait, as I do not yet have the right hat to wear for the performance.
While I grumbled about whatever person left their leavings for me to deal with, I took the lid off the tank and went to the usual work of bending the paper clip and reconnecting the thing. While I did this, I pulled up the cylinder thing which resulted in the toilet flushing. While I was futzing, I hit the filler tube that is connected on the top of the cylinder thing. It came loose (a thing I didn’t know could happen so easily) and began shooting water everywhere. First I was struck squarely in the face with toilet tank water and then the tube went haywire like a whackyarmedinflatabletubeman spraying water all over my hair, shirt, walls and floor.
After being kind of confused as to what the fuck was going on, I managed to plug the tube back in. There I stood in the stall, glasses dripping with water. I started laughing as I wandered out to the sink area to take my glasses off and dab myself dry with scratchy paper towels. I then went back to the toilet and finished fixing the flusher, because I finish what I start, yo.
I walked into the lab looking vaguely like a proverbial drowned rat and I regaled all with the tale of the toilet tube that threatened to destroy me. If I was a Wicked Witch resident of Oz.
I decided that this was pretty much the signal that I should just go home before the next appliance decides to come after me. My money’s on the Keurig.