Logjam 2006

As a single, working urbanite, I sometimes think I have things pretty easy. I have a car to drive, money to spend, a spacious and (usually) clean apartment and easy access to all forms of entertainment and recreation. Daily life will require me to step beyond my boundaries on the rare occasion but I can usually handle it without much trouble.

I must say this: there are fewer things more horrifying than flushing your normally trusty toilet and watching the water level rise and rise and rise...

Such was the situation I was faced with over the weekend. I have been living in my apartment for 20 months and have never had any major incidents with the toilet. Sure, the building manager inexplicably attached a brand-new white seat to the pink toilet and waited almost a year to rectify the colour mismatch. And yeah, sometimes the tank had problems refilling with water but you only needed to give it some time before it fixed itself.

This time the problem was a little more severe. I was experiencing blockage. Thankfully, my bowl did not overflow and flood my apartment in toilet swill. But those three seconds of watching the bowl fill up was nail-biting stuff. A true horror show. I had a brief flashback of the last year I was living with my parents back in late '04. My parents had been in a routine of hosting raucous mah-jong parties once or twice a week in their house. With only a single bathroom on the ground level, this meant that the toilet saw heavy use in the course of one MJ marathon session. There was a span of maybe 3 weeks when the toilet would be plugged up, likely due to our guests' liberal use of wiping paper.

I'd get home from work on Monday and lo, I would be called upon to hunch over the bowl, plunger in hand, and attempt to clear up the pipes. It was so bad one time I drove out to London Drugs to buy some of that liquid Drain-O stuff. What did you know, none of the product they had at the store was intended for use in the toilet. Were they kidding me? Was toilet blockage that rare of an occurrence in the general population? I found that hard to believe. It was suggested that I invest in one of those specialized coils that plumbers use to feed down into the pipes and dislodge whatever it is that's causing the problem. Of course they had nothing of the sort in stock either. I ended up buying a couple bottles of the non-toilet drainage solution anyway out of desperation.

The Drain-O nor my manual efforts had much effect on the blocked toilet. After the third straight Monday of working the plunger into a stinky, overused bowl, I revolted and told my dad to hire a plumber already to fix the problem already. He had long since retired and obviously had a fair bit of free time, so I was livid that he did not have the wherewithal to hire someone in 3 weeks to check things out. There was no way I was coming home from a full day of work to play with a dirty toilet while my dad got his ass kicked again at mah-jong. I caved in pretty quickly and cut him a deal: I'll pay for the repairs. Just call someone to find out what's wrong and I'll foot the cost. Please just do it!

Ah, well then my dad sprung into action. He got a plumber to come by to inspect the pipes and they found out the roots from a nearby tree was blocking things up. Isn't that crazy? And how the hell do you fix something like that? I didn't care. The plumber came back the next day and did his work and presto, a fully functioning toilet again. It hit me in the wallet a bit to get this done, although it wasn't quite as expensive as I thought it would be.

Now over the weekend, I had what I thought might be a repeat of that traumatic experience. Being in an apartment, this was our only toilet, so the stakes were higher. Well, what goes around comes around. The next day I had a lunch appointment with the parental units and hit my dad up for two bottles of Drain-O. I went looking for a plunger at Safeway and to my shock and dismay, they didn't carry any. Luckily, the Drain-O worked like a charm. It was sort of fun to see the solution instantly dissolve an errant piece of toilet paper floating in the bowl. They don't call it corrosive for nuttin'.

As for how my home toilet got backed up in the first place... I have to say, I have no idea whatsoever. Like, why does anything happen? Why does the sun set in the west? Why do dogs bark? I cannot fathom why my toilet got plugged. Truly, a modern mystery...