All:

“Joseph, the basement toilet is plugged.” She always calls me Joseph. When my wife is angry, she calls me “Joe”. If I don’t get that toilet unplugged, and soon, I’m gonna be “Joe” among other things.

The basement bedroom and bath is for guests and my twenty-six-year-old niece and her six-year-old-daughter barely qualify. They’ve been staying recently, and I’m figuring they’re somehow related to the plugged toilet. A six-year-old? C’mon, it’s a no-brainer. Besides, the guy I bought the house from  told me  that he had just replaced the leach field, to the tune of five grand, a year before I bought the place due to his daughter’s  disposal of certain feminine hygine products, despite his repeated warnings. I’m not a sexist, I’m an amature plumber.

The toilet in question is below the leach field, so it flushes into a holding tank and when the tank reaches the 18″ level, the electric pump kicks the effluent into the leach field above. Put a ladder in the hallway, remove the access door, climb over the busted-out concrete wall, put a ladder on the other side and you’re in the pump room. With a lead light, it’s not too bad a place. I gotta go rent some tools. I love the tool rental place.

I pull the toilet and run he snake all the way through. This toilet definately dosen’t have a recalcitrant Sponge Bob Square Pants hiding in the trap. It’s clean. I snake from the flange to the pit, all clear. I hook it back up and give a flush. It almost overflows but not quite.

“Sounds like a vent problem”, tool rental guy says.  I love tool rental guys, maybe I’ll be one in another life. Makes sense, but this toilet has worked perfectly for sixteen years vented the way it is. I check the stacks outside anyway, all clear. I disconnect the pipes which lets some air in , shake the pump wires and it kicks on and the toilet flushes and fills perfectly. Cover the access, pull the ladders and I’m done. That was last week.

“Joseph, the downstairs toilet is plugged again.” Damn. Maybe I’m gonna hafta put one of those vent things in the line. Ladders, lead light and access removal and I’m in the hole again. I run the shower and watch water seep out of the pit cover. That sucker is full  and the pump’s not kickin’ on. I climb out, plug the lead light into the pump recepticle and it’s hot. Bad pump.

I remove two of the bolts holding the lid on the pit and have to Sawzall off the other two as they are rusted solid. I disconnect the pipes at the check valve and pull a black slimey stinkey sixteen-years-in-the-pit- submersible pump out of the pit. I splash a bit when I work so I’ve got some goo on me. O.K., I’m lying a bit, I’m covered in “effluent”.

I call my wife and neice to bring a large trash bag to cover the business end of this pump so I can hand it out of the room to them. Apparently years of breathing Methylmethacrylate in the solid surface business  dulls your sense of smell, because I didn’t think it was that bad but my wife and niece both gagged and damn near hurled into the trash bag before we got the pump in it. We hauled it to the front yard to hose it off to make it acceptable for the trash guys and I still had to pull useable parts, which I did.

If you want to piss off your wife, walk through the house carrying a bag dripping poop and dropping same off your clothes and shoes. She conveniently forgets the big bucks I’m saving us on a plumber. Good thing we have porcelain tile instead of carpeting. A little bleach water and we’re good to go. I decide to change my clothes before I leave the house, you never know who you may run into at Home Depot.

Thank God Home Depot carries Sewage pumps and is open Sundays, or we may all be going in the woods next door ’till morning. And there’s ‘skeeters big as hummingbirds in those woods too. $200.00 Sewage pump, not those wimpy little $89.00 sump pumps, either.

I’ve got to drill out those rusted and sawed-off bolts to put the lid back on, can’t do it without splashing on my freshly-changed clothes. I broke one of the pipe holders on the lid, but one rusted screw is still holding it. Got ‘er all hooked back up and I’m not spreadin’ the Carpet Magic around the pit until I hear the sweet sound of pump hum and effluent slosh. I plug ‘er in and hear both. Done. I put everything away and I’m goin’ for a dip in my lake and hopefully soak the stink off me. this works pretty well but I still need a shower and shave. After all this I can still smell my fingers as I type this. EEEwwww.