So back to our commode, our loo, or toilet - whichever name works well. Our toilet would not stop running. Since both A and I are overachievers, our problem was not just limited to our own apartment, but we've actually succeeded in draining our entire complex - made up of four flats of a day's water supply. The jokes practically write themselves, but hold off on those for just a short few minutes, you'll thank me later.
In the past week and a half we have had a crowd of plumbers and their various associates and assistants make their way to the toilet in our master bedroom. The first couple of plumbers suggested that our flusher (a rather large button inserted into the wall) was stuck and all it needed is a bit of coconut oil, go figure right? Sadly, that did not work.
Through the email correspondence, we found out that our toilet is Jaguar brand, if I had to guess, not related to the car manufacturer. I am pretty sure this is the model we have in our home (pictured below)
...but personally I think this one is a pretty sweet Jag - kind of looks like an egg doesn't it?
Feel free to browse the company's website - its pretty spiffy. Website: "Jaguar - experience bathing"
So yes, the State Department lent a Jag to us and we broke it. This is why, we can't have nice things. Let the jokes commence - I will even start you off with a few:
Born to perform.
Unleash a Jaguar.
Don’t dream it. Drive it!
Jaguar. The art of performance.
Grace…. space… pace.
There is no better time to engage in bathroom jokes and channel the second grader somewhere deep inside of all of us.
Feel free to contribute, but for now, ladies and gentlemen, our Jag is in the shop...