Totally tubular
The other day I dismantled a toilet. Not the flappy bits inside the tank, the kind that spring a leak every so often and make the water run all night long. I’m talking about the seal down at the bottom of the porcelain fixture, at floor level. It’s a no man’s land down there, I’m here to tell you.
Really, when you think about it, a toilet is nothing more than an attractive interface between your large intestine and an even larger intestine, a 4” diameter plastic tube that snakes its way through the earth to god knows where. This plastic tube is ringed at the top by a wax seal that keeps what’s gross inside and on its way. Except that our wax seal had sprung a small leak. And while I am pretty darn masterful at looking askance from household projects that are calling for my attention (what do you think blogging is really about, anyway?), there was no denying that this breach of sanitary hygiene would have to be addressed. Sooner, rather than later.
The toilet in question was in our basement; the lowest point in the house. And the basement had only just been converted to a finished room with a half-bath a few years back. And thank heaven for that newness. The toilet came apart with ease. There hadn’t been enough time for rust or corrosion to cease up the connections and make this job any worse than it was by design.
With the porcelain throne off its base and the bulk of the old wax ring removed, I found myself on my knees staring down at a white plastic tube that dropped a few inches into the ground before curving sharply away. I have to admit that the tube looked remarkably clean. Clean as a whistle. Well, clean as a shit whistle.
The connector on the end of white plastic tube is the part that sits flush with the floor. It is perfectly round with a smooth, flat, inch-wide ring. The wax seal melds this surface with the bottom of the commode. The connector has a couple of holes in it to hold two bolts; these bolts when passed through holes in the base of the toilet and tightened down with nuts, keep the fixture from moving. The bolts sit in channels carved into the plastic connector and move in a limited fashion from side-to-side. This is because not every toilet has its fastening holes in exactly the same places, so you need to be able to slide the bolts a bit this way or that in order to line things up exactly.
Note that I am spending a lot of time here, describing in detail this small plastic connector. I could have posted a picture. But I wanted to paint one in your mind instead. Because I’m about to involve you, the reader, into the discussion.
The bolts not only slide side-to-side, but at the edge of their tracks the opening widens so that they can come off completely. It hadn’t occurred to me to take the bolts out as I scraped and cleaned in preparation for the new wax seal. I wasn’t even aware that the bolts came off until one did and fell down into the tube with a plunk. What’s worse, the bolt rolled down beyond the curve of the pipe, out of sight. Shit! Metaphorically and otherwise.
As I have already mentioned, the tube was remarkably clean. Certainly cleaner than I was expecting. But with the prospect of having to stick my hand down there in order to retrieve this bolt – a bolt that was absolutely critical to finishing the job – I was suddenly embracing a very different definition of cleanliness.
Of course, in the end, I did what needed to be done. I reached down into that tube all the way to my elbow. Not only that, but I had to blindly feel my way around in there. The bolt did not willingly produce itself. My fingers groped every inch of that pipe, and when I did make contact with the bolt, it slid away, as if taunting me. With my arm extended as far as it could possibly go into the tube (any farther and I would have had a “call 911, I’m stuck in a toilet hole” moment), with frustration mounting, I was finally able to reach the bolt and pull it out. After that, putting the toilet back together was a breeze. The best part is that the operation was a success. The toilet no longer leaks. As with all homeowner quick fix projects, it could have gone otherwise. That’s all I can say in the end.
Okay. Now, here’s your part. Tell me. What would you have done? Would you have stuck your arm down that shit hole? Having thought this over (and believe me have), your only other choice is another damn trip to the hardware store. For a bolt. I might add that not just any bolt will do. I assure you that you don’t have one of these bolts in your tool chest. And chances are you won’t find the right bolt even if you do go to the hardware store. It will be too wide, or too long, or not the right thread. So I ask you again…what would you have done?
12:39:28 AM  Stories
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