Flushing Out The "Theys"

 Who would have ever thought that a trip to New Hampshire to buy a toilet would solve a major dilemma in my life? Who would have thought someone would even drive out of state to purchase a toilet?

 It started as a result of a long-drawn-out discussion with my plumber. As he prefers to be called, Ronnie is prone to long-winded rants about the Revolutionary War at your expense. He charges $65 per hour, which is well worth the investment if he is actually "plumbing," but not worth it if you are not a history buff. I wanted, not demanded, that he replace an older toilet with a new low-flush toilet. He wanted to talk about the tactics of "hit and run " ambushing, not toilets.

 "They say these new low flush toilets can save thousands of gallons of water a year because they have designed them to flush using a lower water volume. It's the law now. They say you have to use them." He spoke.

 "I don't care about what they say, the law about our water supply," I replied. " I have to flush this elegantly designed piece of ceramic three to four times to get it clean, and I have to purchase lots of toilet brushes to help me. What about all of those brushes clogging up the landfills? That can't be too good for the environment. This doesn't seem right. Who are they anyway? I want to talk to them."

 Ronnie countered, " I don't know who they are. I know I can't replace this toilet with an older design. They will take my license."

I was now faced with a dilemma that had haunted me my entire life. They" have prevented me from arguing my case. They have made decisions for me without allowing me to defend myself. I was defeated again. Usually, I would have called my therapist for a quick session but decided to drive to New Hampshire, where real toilets are still sold, purchase one, and they couldn't do anything about it.

 My trip proved more fruitful than I ever imagined. As I was reviewing the toilet color chart, looking for a yellow to match the green and amber wallpaper in my bathroom, I noticed the name badge of the clerk, who was patiently awaiting my decision. The badge said " Robert They". I looked a second time. "They" really exist. I always thought they were government employees in a brain trust hidden in underground bombproof bunkers in Appalachia who spent their time spouting meaningless statistics to keep order in the universe.

 "Are you really a they? How many theys are you?"  I asked.

 "A'yup. That's what the badge says, fella," he answered. He obviously mistook my mature gray hair for a blond tint.

 "Golly, I have so many questions to ask you- a lifetime full of them. Will my hair fall out if I wear a hat? Will I get a pound if I am in for a penny? If I eat an apple a day, will it keep the doctor away, or do I have to suffer with gas every day? How come I studied very hard and never became president? Why does the sudden appearance of a wooly caterpillar in late summer predict an early winter that never seems to happen?

 "Whoa, slow down, their youngster," he interrupted. I looked around to see if maybe he had left his glasses somewhere. " I don't know nutt'in about all of that. I jes sell plumin. Do ya want a toilet or not?"

 "Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! You don't understand. You have all the answers. You can't just slough me off and leave me hanging. I need those answers; they're important to the world and me. Do you have any idea of the psychological destruction of the human race you have caused over the last thousands of years? You have to answer me."

 "You hold it right there. I don't have any answers. They say that if you have nothing intelligent to say, keep your yap shut, so I'm not saying nutt'in."

 "But you said that. You're a they, so can't you change your mind and develop another logical statement that will allow you to answer all of my questions? Can't you? What if you just stated, "They say if you are ever identified as a they, then you must tell the truth, or your toenails will fall out." See, then you could answer all my questions and become good friends. I could call you anytime I need an explanation of a they statement. Is that a deal?"

 "Nope. What color do you want?" he asked finally.

 I purchased a toilet with a slight pink tint and felt comfortable knowing I had discovered who they were and where they lived. The drive home was pure bliss. I felt elated that tucked in the corner of my wallet next to the dollar that they say you should keep for emergencies was the name and address of the theys, and I also had a new toilet.