Lesson Sixteen: Dunnekin and Doughnuts

            “Loo”, Jon muttered out loud.  “What a funny word.”  Jon continued reading in his mind from toiletinspector.com.  The word comes from nautical terminology, loo being an old-fashioned word for lee.  The standard nautical pronunciation (in British English) of leeward is looward.  Early ships were not fitted with toilets but the crew would urinate over the side of the vessel.  However, it was important to use the leeward side.  Using the windward side would result in the urine blown back on board: hence the phrases ‘pissing into the wind’ and ‘spitting into the wind’.  Even now most yachtsmen refer to the loo rather than the heads…Other theories are that it derives from the term “gardyloo” (a corruption of the French phrase gardez l’eau loosely translated as “watch out for the water!”) which was used in medieval Edinburgh when chamber pots were emptied from a window onto the street.  However, the first recorded usage of “loo” comes long after this term became obsolete…Also that an early British toilet manufacturer produced a model of cistern named “Waterloo” (in honour of the Battle of Waterloo), and the term derives from ‘going to the Waterloo’, and then abbreviated to simply as ‘going to the ‘loo’. 

Jon chuckled as he sipped his morning coffee.  Yet another day began for Jon as Friday got under way.  The sun was out, the air warm and the leaves on the trees were beginning to turn color as fall slowly overtook summer.  A half-eaten doughnut sat beside Jon as he sat with his feet up on his desk waiting for his shift to start.  He’d gotten to work early as he hadn’t been able to sleep.  So, he picked up some doughnuts and coffee and figured he’d relax a bit before the day began. 

            As Jon read through the website detailing other names for toilets, he laughed to himself at some of the names and their derivations from early languages.

            Lavatory:  The term lavatory, or lav, derives from the Latin, which in turn comes from Latin, to wash. It used to refer to a vessel for washing, such as a sink or wash basin, and so came to mean a room with washing vessels. Since these rooms often also contain toilets, the meaning evolved into its current meaning, namely the polite and formal euphemism for a toilet and the room containing it.

            Jacks: In Tudor England a privy was first referred to as a jakes in 1530. In modern Ireland the cognate term jacks is still used, and is a very common method of referring to the toilet.
            Bog: The bog is a colloquial expression in British English for a toilet. Originally "bog" was used to describe an open cesspit and the word was later applied to the privy connected to it. More wide-spread is the usage bogroll, meaning toilet paper. See also tree bog, not to be confused with the swampland meaning of bog.

            Jon almost choked on his coffee.  “Bogroll”!  That’s a good one, he thought.  I think I’ll start using that term when the staff asks for toilet paper.  “I’m on my way with your bogroll.”  “How many bogrolls do you need?”  “The toilet was clogged with a lot of bogroll.”  Jon shook his head.  That would be pretty funny.  He read on.                      

Dunny: The Dunny is an Australian expression for an outside toilet. The person who appeared weekly to empty the pan beneath the seat was known as the dunnyman. The word derives from the British dialect word dunnekin, meaning dung-house. It is now an informal word used for any lavatory and is most often used referring to drop or pit lavatories in the Australian bush.

            Jon almost lost it when he read “dunnyman”.  Oh man!  Now I can really have some fun.  “Dunnyman is on the way with your bogroll!”  “Jon, we have a clogged toilet in the student’s restroom.”  “Okay, Dunnyman is on the way.”  Jon could just imagine the look on everyone’s face when he started using terms like this.  Hilarious!   Even though he didn’t necessarily empty a pan, his having to clean the toilets and unclog them certified he did basically the same thing.  Jon looked at the clock.  He had five minutes before his shift started.  He scanned the other terms on screen.

            WC for Water Closet.  House of Office.  Khazi.  Netty. John.  Privy.  Crapper.  Vin. Latrine. And Jon figured there were more names not mentioned on this site.  What a hoot!  Jon stood up, stretched and took the last swig of his coffee and finished off his doughnut.  Time to get to work.

            Jon headed out to begin his day of activity.  Everything from work orders to repairs to cleaning the lunchroom to whatever radio calls might come in throughout a typical day.  Then, around 2:00 p.m., Jon got the call.

            “Office to Jon.”

            “Go ahead, this is Jon.”

            “Jon, we have a problem in the boys’ restroom near the admin area.”

            “Okay.  Wet or dry problem?  That will tell me what I need to bring up.”

            “Sounds like it’s wet.”

            “Thanks.  I’ll take a look.”

            Jon went to the nearest custodial closet and grabbed a toilet plunger, some dry absorb compound, a pair of gloves, tongs and some rags.  He never knew what he was going to find, so he wanted to be prepared.  It seemed like every time he was told the mess was huge, it was small and vice-versa.  So, he always went in expecting the worst.

            When Jon entered the restroom, he scanned it for any obvious signs of trouble. Two urinals and two stalls on the left as well as a couple sinks.  Paper towel dispensers to the right looked fine.  No paper or debris on the floor.  Ceiling looked good. No toilet paper wads stuck up there.  No water on the floor.  Jon figured it must be in a toilet.  He gVanced in the two urinals.  Nothing.  First stall.  Toilet looked good.  Second stall, handicap one.  Holy crap!  Jon chuckled to himself momentarily at his serendipitous joke. The toilet was plugged.  But not just plugged.  It was P.L.U.G.G.E.D. And it was bad!

            All Jon could see was a small white mountain of toilet paper sticking up past the edges of the lid. It looked a lot like a small snow-peaked mountain.  Both rolls of toilet paper on the wall were empty, so Jon figured it was all now packed inside the toilet.  Jon mentally patted himself on the back for remembering to bring the tongs.  Tongs were a must when it came to clogged toilets that went above and beyond the norm.  And this job was definitely that!

            Jon grabbed a garbage can and locked himself in the restroom so no one would walk in while he was trying to clean up this mess.  He carefully set down his absorbent, put on his gloves, hung the rags over the handicap bar on the wall and grasped his tongs, ready for action.  Then he began grabbing huge globs of wet, dripping toilet paper out of the toilet and dropping them into the garbage can. 

            Phew, Jon thought.  Looks like this won’t be as bad as I thought.  There could have been far worse things in this toilet than toilet paper!

            Barely had those words raced through Jon’s mind when as he lifted the next mini load of paper out of the toilet he noticed his tongs were nicely coated with a brown sheen much like a dipped ice cream cone.  Jon realized he’d thought the best too soon.  This was not just a toilet bowl full of paper, it was more like a chocolate filled marshmallow.  Someone had decided to create an art project right inside the bog!  Jon mentally stumbled over that expression. 

            Where in the world had that come from?  And then he remembered he’d been reading about toilet names earlier that morning.  Jon shook his head.  I guess I’m the Dunnyman today, he thought to himself.  Looks like the bogrolls did a number on this toilet!  Maybe we should get the kid who did this in here to clean out this “jack”!  Well, Jon thought to himself sarcastically while curling his lips and rolling his eyes, why don’t we just have him clean all of the “vins” at the same time.  Maybe he should just sit in this homemade dunnekin for a while and enjoy the fruits of his labor. Jon chuckled to himself as the odor began to permeate the air and his nostrils.  Jon shook his head to clear his mind of the haze that was beginning to creep from his sinuses to his brain.  Toilet odor was never one you got used to.  It had such a pungent and piercing way about it that the odor seemed to find every little crevice to sneak into.  It just didn’t seem to go away!

            Jon tried to breathe as little as possible as he continued scooping chocolate filled toilet paper out of the toilet.  After another two or three tong-filled scoops, Jon could see the bottom of the bowl.   Jon was relieved. 

            Carefully setting the tongs in the garbage can, Jon decided he could flush the rest of the contents away.  He’d done that a million times. Sometimes it took a flush or two, but it would usually go down shortly thereafter.  He reached up, grabbed the flush handle and pulled.  A whoosh of water raced around the sides of the toilet washing the remnants of toilet paper down the hole.  Jon stretched, and smiled.  Not too bad after all, he thought.  He gave it another flush just to be sure.  Again a whoosh and then the dreaded rising water in the bowl caught Jon’s eyes.  Jon grimaced.  He was so sure this job was over.  He got off at 3:00 p.m., and it was already 2:26.  The water stopped halfway up the side of the toilet bowl.  Jon decided to try again.  Sometimes the pressure of the water and the weight of it in the bowl would force the clog through the pipes.  Jon flushed.

            With a roar the water swirled into the bowl.  Jon watched as the water began rising toward the rim.  The flush mechanism for this toilet was rated at 1.6 gallons per flush (gpf).  That meant it would only flush for a few seconds and then stop.  After five seconds Jon began to fidget.  The water was still roaring and was rising quickly toward the top.  Jon immediately wiggled the flush handle in the hopes that is would create enough disturbance to close the internal diaphragm so that the water would shut off.  Nothing happened.  Now Jon was beginning to panic.

            As he watched the water rise, Jon noticed a slight orange hue in the bottom of the toilet just beyond the drain hole, somewhat like the sun coming up over the horizon in the morning.  Momentarily bewildered, Jon suddenly realized what it was.  Someone had stuffed an orange into the toilet and it was plugging the hole.  Unfortunately for Jon, the water was also rising.  Jon wiggled the handle again and again.  The flow did not stop. In fact, with every wiggle of the handle, Jon was releasing another 1.6 gallons of water into the bowl and the orange was acting as a wonderful stopper in the bottom of the toilet.  Jon’s heart sank.  He stood watching as the water began to cascade over the edge and to flow outward from the toilet and across the floor like some river overflowing its banks and covering a flood plain.

            Jon’s heart sank.  This was not how he wanted to end his day.  Quickly thinking, Jon popped the vandal proof cover off of the water shut-off on the toilet.  He grabbed his 10 in 1 screwdriver, pulled out the bit and flipped it over to the slotted side.  As he pushed it into the screwdriver the bit slipped, bounced off the toilet seat and splashed into the running water.  Without hesitating, Jon plunged his hand into the water.  Pieces of toilet paper swirled around Jon’s arm and clung to his shirt and arm.  Jon’s fingers touched the bit which was lying on the bottom of the bowl.  As he went to pick it up, it shot out of his fingers like a lemon seed and lodged underneath the edge of the orange. Jon cursed under his breath.  He tried again.  Each time he got a hold of it, it would slip and jam farther underneath the orange.  Now it was so far under the edge of the orange that Jon could not get enough of a grip on it to pull it out.  Jon’s anger began to rise.

            Jon’s pants were soaking up water as he knelt on his knees.  Capillary action was pulling the water up his pant legs and toward his crotch.  Before this was over Jon would be soaked.  Water continued to cascade over the edge.  Jon gVanced the best he could to his left and could see the water covering the restroom floor.  At least there was a drain so much of it would go down that.  Still, the mess was growing.

Jon thought for a minute and figured he could maybe pull the orange out and allow the water to drain since he couldn’t shut the water off.  Using his fingernails, Jon sank them into the soft skin of the orange until he felt he had a good grip on the fruit.  He slowly pulled.  The orange moved a little.  Jon’s heart jumped with excitement at the prospect of dislodging the citrus sun.  Slowly, carefully, stealthily, Jon pulled the orange forward all the time fighting the constant jets of water that continued to keep the toilet full.  Jon got the orange about halfway out and felt the water pressure and suction beginning to pull the orange from his grip.  Jon dug his nails in deeper.  

            Continuing to pull, Jon fought the current and pull of gravity down the toilet drain.  Suddenly the orange popped loose and floated to the surface.  At the same time Jon’s hand slipped off the orange and went down the drain.  Jon gave a tug to remove his hand but to his horror he realized it had gone in far enough to become lodged up and over the slight curvature that was built into the toilet drain.  The water that had quickly receded when the orange was removed began to rise again, but not quite as fast since some water could seep past Jon’s hand and down the drain.  Jon’s body slumped forward as he leaned on the edge of the toilet seat in despair.

            Jon wiggled his hand and wrist and tried to dislodge it.  Working on this for 10 minutes, Jon suddenly felt his hand loosen.  A spark of excitement raced through Jon.  He repositioned himself to get a better angle so as to remove his hand and in so doing kicked the garbage can over.  Its contents spilled out and covered the back of his legs and shoes.  Jon could feel the chocolate marshmallow oozing into his socks and shoes.  Disgusted and gagging, Jon tried harder, believing he might even break his wrist.  Just about the time he was ready to give up, his hand slipped out of the hole, the water roared down and now the only thing Jon saw was the continual swirling of the water which continued to run.  Jon massaged his wrist.  His 10 in 1 bit was gone.  However, since the tool was a 10 in 1, Jon could use the smaller slotted bit on the other end.  He carefully removed it, flipped it over and reinserted it into the body of the tool.  He then turned the shutoff screw clockwise and the water stopped.  The restroom became quiet except for the trickle of water going down the drain.  Thank goodness for the drain Jon thought. 

            Jon looked around the stall.  His bag of absorbent was three times its normal size.  He carefully tipped the garbage can back up, picked up the mini bag of concrete which the absorbent had become and threw it in the garbage. Jon slowly rose, his knees burning from leaning on them for so long.  Water dripped off his pant legs and onto his shoes. It trickled down the sides and onto the floor.  It felt like he was walking on sponges as water squished out of his shoes with each step.  Jon unlocked the door.  He stepped out and headed for his office to get some new toilet parts, a wet-vac and disinfectant filled mop water.  

            Jon returned a few minutes later. As he neared the restroom door, the tell-tale smell of sewage assaulted his nose.  Jon stopped and looked around.  Was the odor from the plugged toilet or was it from something else?  Jon didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, so he opened the restroom door and entered dragging behind him the wet-vac and other tools.  As he rounded the corner, Jon realized where the odor was coming from.  The drain had backed up. 

            Jon’s hopes were dashed as he realized that his initial positive thinking that the drain was working were wrong.  The drain worked for a bit, but because of lack of use and the failure of the custodial staff to regularly pour water down the drain to keep it clear and flowing, somewhere downline the pipes had a build-up of who-knows-what stopping up the pipes.  Now Jon had bigger issues to deal with. 

            As he stood there looking at the drain, he could see it bubbling and gurgling as the water tried to go down it while at the same time trapped air was being released.  He knew it would drain, but very slowly as it worked its way past the clog.  However, the amount of water that had filled the drain was now more than it could hold as it had backed up to the point of no return.  Jon would have to suck up the water already on the floor and hope that the drain would eventually empty itself out downline.

            Jon plugged in the wet-vac and went to work.  Using his wand for water, Jon began sucking up the murky, chocolate-colored water that swirled in pretty patterns across the tile.  The water from the drain was still gurgling, but it seemed to be dissipating.  That made Jon feel better.  Jon continued cleaning the water off the floor and finally noticed that the drain had quit making funny noises.  Maybe the end was in sight.  Jon worked his way across the restroom and inched his wand into the last stall where all of this had begun.  A puddle behind the toilet was all that was left to suck up.  Jon worked his way into the stall and started sucking up the water when he heard his wet-vac, which was eight feet behind him and sitting over the drain, begin to make a funny sound.  Jon stepped out and looked at the machine.  At the same instance he looked down, the wet-vac made a horrendous bang and smoke rolled out of the top.  A couple louder pops and then with a great whoosh the top cover blew off with such force that the concussion in the bathroom popped Jon’s eardrums and reverberated down the drain where the human mud had not yet quite settled.  The reverberation inside the pipe caused the “fudge” to blow back out of the drain and onto Jon and the surrounding walls.  Fire began to lick out of the top of the lid which was lying on its side in the corner, the electrical cord still snaked across the room to the outlet.  Quickly, Jon ran to the wall and pulled the plug out but not without getting a good shock that sent him reeling backward and onto the floor.  What had just happened?

            Jon’s mind raced.  Why did the wet-vac blow again?  This had happened not long ago when he had been stripping floors?  And then he knew.  He had cleaned it out the day before, but when he put the lid back on today, he had forgotten to put the ball float back inside the float cage.  The water rising inside the wet-vac backed up into the motor causing the explosion and fire.  And the plug had needed repaired.  The ground prong had been ripped off, but Jon had not yet replaced it.  So, Jon received all 120 volts of electric current from the wall zipping through his body.  He lay there grimacing and shaking his head. After a few minutes he stood up.  He looked at himself in the chocolate spattered mirror.  His body was covered in “dunny”, his hair was frizzled from the shock, pieces of bogroll hung from his body and his face was a bit darker from the soot that had emanated from the top of the wet-vac.  Jon shook his head in dismay.  How could I have been so dumb?  Now I’m not just Dunnyman, but Dumbyman!  What an idiot.  And the float and plug!  I knew better.  But being in a hurry, he thought to himself, has caused me to disregard safety and injure myself. And then the fire alarm went off as swirls of smoke drifted lazily throughout the restroom and into the smoke detector sensing mechanism.  Jon cried.

            Within minutes, the door to the restroom opened.  Jon was wrapping up his wet-vac and trying to clean up the best he could.  Normally when an alarm went off he went to the enunciator panel to see where the problem was.  Today he knew. What was the point? The fire department would be here shortly. And voila!  Here they were.

            “You okay?” the burly fireman asked.

            “Yes.  Just some stupidity on my part”, Jon replied sheepishly.

            “You look pretty frazzled.  Maybe we better have a paramedic take a look at you.”

            “No, no.  I’ll be fine.  My pride is more hurt than I am.”

            Looking at the wet-vac, the fried electrical cord and Jon’s frizzled, darkened face and hair, the fireman said, “safety first.  Let’s have you looked at.  Water and electricity don’t mix.  You never know what might have happened to your body and especially your heart.”

            Jon knew he wouldn’t get away with just leaving. 

            “Okay.  But can they just look me over here?  I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

            “We’ll let them decide”, the fireman responded.

            “Red here with you guys”, Jon asked.

            “No, he has today off.”

            Jon was relieved.  More than once Red, a big fireman with red hair, thus the nickname, had responded to Jon’s misadventures.  He was glad he wasn’t here today.

            As Jon shuffled toward the door following the fireman, he rounded the corner just in time to meet the principal, Vance, head on.

            “Wow!  You look horrible!  Are you okay?  What happened?  Why did the fire alarm go off?”

            “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you”, Jon replied, hanging his head in despair.

            “Try me”, Vance said.

            “Maybe later”, Jon retorted in a tired, embarrassed voice.  “I need to sit down for a bit and be checked out.”

            Vance nodded in affirmation without saying anything.  He turned to leave.  Taking two steps he stopped and looked back at Jon.

            “Hey Jon.”

            Jon answered by just looking at Vance.

            “I had a student in my office earlier today.  After he left I noticed my orange I had sitting on my desk for a snack was missing.  I’m sure he took it. Can you keep your eyes peeled and let me know if it shows up? I’m thinking he either just took it and threw it away or he is planning on using it for something uncouth.  I’ve found plenty of fruit thrown against the walls or elsewhere during my career.  So I think he’s planning something.”

            Jon continued to stare at Vance as if he’d seen a ghost.  Vance looked at Jon bewildered.  Jon’s eyes told Vance he understood, but for the life of Vance he couldn’t figure out why he looked so perturbed at his simple request.  Vance turned and walked off down the hall.  Jon sat there thinking. And then it struck him. Why not put the orange now lying in the garbage can back on Vance’s desk after all was said and done?  Besides, it had a peel.  Nothing inside was contaminated!