My Dear Abundant Sir,
I was somewhat in awe of your porcelain throne, my love, and not because you were the king of it. I was obsessed with wanting to know if the water in the toilet went down the drain counterclockwise (opposite from America). You thought it was a riot.
I was shocked to see how little water was in the bowl of your very cavernous toilet. I asked if there was something wrong with your flusher. You roared with laughter. You reassured me that there was nothing wrong with the sewer system in your home, and that I would find out when I needed to use the lavatory. I believe I pushed your body out the door insisting that I needed to use your powder room right then and there.
Whether or not I really needed to use the bathroom has since escaped my memory, but I remember flushing that toilet. All I know is the sound of a torrential downpour akin to a tropical typhoon filled my ears as buckets of water came out of nowhere and circled the inside of the toilet bowl. If I had been sitting down at the time, I have no doubt that the awesome suction power would have sucked me down that drain and deposited me in a billabong in Western Australia. A timid woman would have cowered in the corner while covering her ears with her hands. My stubbornness prevailed however, and I stared danger in its gaping eye.
I have no idea how many times I flushed your commode while watching the display of water supremacy. I think I finally stopped when your laughter, from the other room, broke through my reverie.
With as much power as your flushing system had, I had to wonder if an Australian bidet would be more comparable to an anal enema. It caused a paradigm shift in my life of which I have never seen the likes of before or since. I have just now, after nearly 15 years, gotten over my astonishment.
My Water Logged Darling
I know it must have been quite a shock for you having to deal with our antipodean plumbing. I had experienced American toilets first hand, so I knew you would be somewhat perplexed. Yes we do things a little difference down here. I know it is hard to believe, but the American way is not the only way.
We have reached a point in the letter where I really feel the need to inject some bathroom humour. Perhaps I could make some jokes along the lines that you were “flushed with success.” Maybe I could suggest that it is “commodiously yours.” I could also comment that its all “water down the drain.” Sadly I fear that I may be just “raging against the latrine.”
So our toilet system provided you endless amusement. It kind of reminds me of the old Bill Cosby routine where his little brother asks where all the water goes when you flush the toilet. To which Bill replies. “It goes all around the city………….would you like to see the city?” Then he has his brother standing in the toilet bowl covered in grease.
As for our bidets, well they are normally maintained by the fire brigade with the jets being powered by three inch pressure hoses.
From Sir With Love
©2014 Darling and Sir