We were on our boat this past weekend and as we normally do, we stopped to use the after-hours bathroom at the marina.
We got to the steps and two 20-something women were there. One came out and said, “it won’t flush”. The other said, “oh, well”, and they left.
I went in anyway, figuring they just didn’t hold the handle down long enough. That seems to be the common problem, for me anyway, with toilets at events.
But no, I flushed the toilet here and it started to rise in the bowl. Oh dear, we may all be out of luck. But wait!, there was a plunger on the side of the toilet. I grew up in this house (this exact house) with a very old toilet on the second floor. I don’t think it was 1920s original, but pretty darn close. There were times that the water rose dangerously close to overflowing and we knew to grab that plunger and plunge like our life depended on it. It kind of did right?
I grabbed that plunger, and plunged a few times and sure enough, the water swirled down and out.
Those young women should have stuck around, they could have learned something from this old, wise woman.
Thoughts From The Passenger Seat 