I am happy to report that I was able to purchase *and* install (no small feat for someone from my family) a brand new toilet seat for my first floor bathroom.
The previous toilet seat broke while I was on it. This was a bit traumatic, although I am proud to say that I rode that bitch all the way to the floor.
. . . . . . . . . my fall from grace [dramatic reenactment]Unfortunately the ride only lasted a few seconds so I did not have the opportunity to break into my absolutely spot-on imitation of the Slim Pickens bomb riding scene from Dr. Strangelove.
But anyway, after careful consideration, I decided to go to Meijer's department store for my replacement seat.
When I got to the correct aisle I found that I had my choice of approximately 35 toilet seats. Nearly every single box said "Industry Standard Size" in small print.
Yeah, right - fat chance, I thought.
Obviously the toilet seat industry has not been having their annual conferences in coastal cities because five minutes on any U.S beach will show you that the human ass refuses to be standardized. It is a beast of its own making. It scoffs in the face of standards - industrial or otherwise.
After I read some additional even smaller print, I realized that the "industry standard size" was a reference to the space between the holes in the back of the seat where it attaches to the toilet bowl. Reassured by this bit of information, I grabbed the cheapest toilet seat available ($6.95) and headed toward the front of the store.
A straight line to the cash registers sent me through the men's clothing department and so I stopped to look at blue jeans. Unfortunately, all of the different sizes made me wonder once again: is this *really* the toilet seat for me?
It was then that I noticed the fitting rooms.
I decided that I would walk over to the sales clerk and ask if she could open one of the stalls for me. This plan was immediately aborted when I saw that the clerk was an older, timid-looking woman who appeared as if she spent most of the work day with her index finger perpetually poised above the store security button.
I opted instead to go ahead and take a chance on my selection. Afterall, I have been trying to be a little bit more daring . . . to live outside my "comfort zone" . . . to push the personal envelope of my life - and what better way to do that than by purchasing a toilet seat "sit unseen" (if you will).
I am very proud to mention that I was able to install the new toilet seat in about ten minutes, and - if I may say so myself - she's a real beaut. But even more importantly - my new seat is providing me with a comfortable and balanced fit - snug, but not too snug. In other words - exactly what I look for in a toilet seat.
I couldn't be happier.
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