Her Ladyship

Notes from the gutter.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Her Ladyship: 1; Toilet seat: eh, 1/2

The other night things became Un-befucking-acceptable. My toilet seat was mocking my complete lack of handyman (-person? -woman? oh, forget it) skillz and I Could. Not. Take. It. Not one more minute.

See, here's the deal. I have no idea of how long it's been there, but I've lived in my condo for five-plus years and it was benignly present when I moved in. So it's probably getting up there in toilet seat years. And I really can't be all that upset with it for its paint finally giving up the ghost and starting to bubble/chip away. I noticed that for the first time back in, oh shit, March. Yes, I bought the toilet seat cover right before Easter (I'm sure Our Lord doesn't mind me back-dating things like that) and intended to swap things out, real quick-like.

However, I was stumped by the damn screws. I could not figure out how to get them to, well, unscrew. I actually do have a tool kit, and it's not even a girly pink. It's an, er, manly turquoise green. So I had the proper tools and everything. But that toilet seat was not budging.

I should probably take a step back and say in my house growing up, while my parents were extremely frugal about most things, any fix-ings that required help above a few squirts of WD40 meant that a professional would be called in. Not drawing on a strong reservoir of ability here, is what I'm saying.

So while on the phone with The Texan the other night, I had had it. He made the mistake of mentioning how he used to do general contracting and plumbing work. My eyes lit up, and I asked, nay, DEMANDED that he figure out over the phone why my toilet seat's screws were being so obstinate. Instead of hanging up and finding a sane girlfriend, he instead took the plunge (ha ha) and walked me through it. For 45 minutes. "Easy installation" my ass. I spent the better part of an hour getting increasingly shrill and petulant about the toilet seat, the toilet, and bolts in general.

As the clock approached 2AM, I finally turned the last screw and got my new toilet seat completely installed. Not that I'm in the least biased, but I have to say this: It's so beautiful. Brings a tear to my eye. Consider this a warning: visitors, you are expected to bow and scrape before it.


  • At 5:17 PM, Blogger Road Runner said…

    What kind of toilet seat is it? Does it glow? Does it have the heating coils so as to warm the tush when you push? Is it decorated? Or did you go with the porcelean white traditional, the only way to review any residue?

    And, weren't you afraid of, while installing the seat with phone assistance, the phone falling in the toilet? I mean, that would have been a rather 'shity' conversation wouldn't it?

  • At 2:44 PM, Blogger Her Ladyship said…

    Actually, I was almost positive my cell WOULD fall into the can. My earpiece broke last week, so the only way I can avoid holding the phone up to my ear for hours on end is to cram it in between my ear and shoulder...for hours on end. Either way, it can't be good for me, and it only allows you a precarious hold on the phone itself.

  • At 10:19 AM, Blogger Scully said…

    Okay, that's a guy you want to keep.

    Glad the cell phone didn't get wet (ewwww) and apparently it really is the throne now.

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