Magazine April 2, 2018, Issue

The Incalculable Loss

Nothing says “middle-aged, Sunday, married, no football on” like walking through the big-box hardware store with a toilet seat under each arm.

I needed only one seat but had neglected to note whether the commode at home was normal-sized or had that fancy elongated shape that gives you a classier evacuation experience. I was not about to call home and ask my wife to measure the toilet. Buy ’em both! This is America. Return the wrong one or keep it for Halloween, put it around my neck, and say, “I’m CNN’s ratings.”

Went to the self-checkout, because a clerk might have thought,

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