The toilet from Hell

One of the first things we did when we moved in was start tearing apart the half-bath off the front hallway. We did this because the home inspector had noticed, and dutifully pointed out on his report, that the toilet was leaking slightly from the wax seal at the base, and the linoleum was beginning to discolor. Besides, we wanted to put in a nice slate tile, and a new vanity and toilet anyway. It was such a small bathroom, we figured it would make a nice, relatively quick project to get us into the swing of things in the new house.

Heh, we're so dumb.

Anyway, that was before we realized that the carpet, aside from smelling like old man pee, harbored enough dust, pollen, and various other allergens to make the War Department's allergies flare up merely from being in the same room. So we started ripping up carpet, buying flooring, swapping out light fixtures and everything else BUT working on the downstairs bath.

"Besides," we said, between sneezes, "we do HAVE two other bathrooms. We don't NEED the downstairs one..."

Heh, we're so dumb.

Within a day or two of moving in, the War Department had ripped up the carpeting from the floor of the master bath... and it's probably a good thing she did, too, given how unbelievably disgusting it was:



Mmm... tasty.

Once the carpet was out, we double-checked that the toilet wasn't actually leaking, which was a good thing, because we'd figured out that the other toilet WAS - at least, if you ever shifted your weight forward while sitting on it, that is. Of course, the shower in the master bath didn't have a curtain, so we were, temporarily, at least, forced to shower in one bathroom, and use the toilet in the other.

For those of you keeping score, that's Toilet: 1, Don: 0.

Anyway, I've had some experience fixing (or replacing) toilets, so I hied myself off down to Canadian Tire and got a new wax seal. I pulled off the toilet, scraped off the old wax seal, installed the new one, and reseated the toilet.

"Ha ha," I thought to myself "That should even the score."

Not so much. Turns out the wax seal wasn't the problem. Either the floor has a bit of a bow in it, or the toilet's just really badly designed, but the same thing was happening: whenever you put weight on the front of the bowl, water would come squirting out the back.

(Toilet: 2, Don: 0)

So the next morning I stopped at a plumbing supply place on my way to work and stood in line behind several guys wearing belts AND suspenders (with varying degrees of success, if you know what I mean) for about fifteen minutes until one of the clerks took pity on me and gave me a couple of toilet wedges. When I got home from work, I immediately pushed the wedges under the front of the toilet and, sure enough, they worked like a charm.

(Toilet: 2, Don: 1 - but if you think that's the final score, you haven't been paying attention to how I work, have you?)

The problem now seemed to be that the water wouldn't fill the reservoir after flushing. The water in the bowl would drain away nicely, but the rear tank would not fill. (Toilet: 3, Don: 1) So I removed the tank lid and had a look. It seems like the rod connecting the ballcock (and how many times, really, do you get a chance to use that work in polite conversation?) to the float would sometimes get stuck on the top of the overflow pipe. I fiddled with it a bit (basically, bent the rod so it curved around the overflow pipe), and got it to work again.

(Toilet: 3, Don: 2)

The next morning, I got up, used the toilet, and then headed down to Canadian Tire again. My "fix" hadn't stuck (Toilet: 4, Don: 2), and I'd pretty much had it with the bloody thing at this point. I bought a whole new ballcock assembly, complete with a float that didn't require a ball on the end of a rod. I installed it, tested it a couple of times, and pronounced myself the winner. (Toilet: 4, Don 3)

Later that same night, the War Department approached me with a troubled look on her face.

"What's wrong, dear?" I asked, concerned that something terrible had happened.

"The toilet," she said. And winced.

When I finished swearing, I went back upstairs and had a look. This time, the problem seemed to be that the flapper valve wasn't balanced properly and wouldn't drop back over the outlet hole after the water had drained out of the reservoir. (Toilet: 5, Don: 3) So I fiddled with it some more, and tried installing the flapper that came with the new float mechanism. Unfortunately, American Standard toilets use a special type of flapper, so the one I had just wasn't going to work. And, of course, Canadian Tire had closed for the night by this point; I had no choice but to shut off the water again and wait for morning. (Toilet: 6, Don: 3)

The next morning, I went down to Canadian Tire and bought a new flapper seal to put on the bottom of the flapper. It installed pretty easily, and seemed to do the trick. About fifteen minutes later, as we were sitting at the table downstairs eating breakfast, we heard, quite clearly, the water running in the toilet upstairs. Well, to be honest, I just turned the TV up a few notches and pretended I couldn't hear Amy asking me why the water was running. (Toilet: 7, Don: 3)

I was getting my ass handed to me by this toilet, damn it. It was starting to feel a little personal.

After breakfast, I went back upstairs and found that the new flapper seal wouldn't seal properly because the outflow drain at the bottom of the reservoir wasn't really all that level. So it was back to Canadian Tire (it's a good thing there's a Crappy Tire less than five minutes from the new house, that's all I can say) where I bought a new overflow pipe assembly (which includes the outflow drain) and, for good measure, a new flapper assembly.

Back at the house, I took the tank off the back of the toilet, removed all the old parts, installed all the new ones, and reattached the reservoir to the base. I got the water hooked back up, and filled the tank again. This time, the flapper sealed properly, but when I flushed the toilet, water came leaking out from the gasket between the tank and the base. (Toilet: 8, Don: 3)

I think the girl at the Canadian Tire was starting to think I was coming in just to see her.

I got back to the house with a new tank-to-base gasket and bolt kit, and once again removed the tank from the base. The War Department helpfully suggested that I add some plumbers grease to the new gasket to help prevent leaks, and it turned out to be a pretty good suggestion. Of course, she didn't mention that it would be a good idea to ALSO put some plumbers grease on the gaskets for the bolts, too. (Toilet: 9, Don: 3) So... yeah, I took the tank off, reapplied the grease and hooked everything back up again.

Well, I tried to. Unfortunately, it seemed all this messing around had proved to be too much for the pipe connecting the water supply to the bottom of the ballcock assembly and no amount of teflon tape seemed to help. Toilet: 10, Don: 3, and I went back to Crappy Tire for a record fourth time in the same day.

The final score was Toilet: 10, Don 4. You can see from the following picture that aside from the toilet itself, and the handle, everything is brand spanking new inside the tank:



You'll notice I'm not declaring victory, however. At least, not yet. Soon, though. Soon, I'll have the last laugh. One of the two brand new Toto toilets currently sitting in the garage is earmarked for that room, and once I've installed the Toto, the American Standard and I are going to sit down and have a little chat.

Just the three of us.

Me, it, and my sledgehammer.