Can I Return It if It Is Not Comfortable?

I recently cracked my toilet seat in half.  While I was sitting on it.  I didn't even get to finish the comics section.  True story.  Fortunately no shards pierced my delicate bottom.  I am not one hundred percent certain, but I think skin that has never been exposed may be more delicate than the weather beaten kind.  So I dodged a bullet there.

So shopping for a new toilet bowl seat is not as straight forward as one may imagine.  Aside from the almond versus white and the elongated versus round there are a myriad of choices that no man should have to bother himself with.  It's easier to pick out flowers for your wife and that's just wrong.  Thank goodness the bowl itself usually comes pre-installed in a new home so the shape decision has already been made.  And if you think it is strictly about accommodating the male physique I invite you to "Google" elongated vs round.  There is a discussion thread for every bored man, woman, and plumber on the face of the Earth.

But our story begins on the top of the bowl.  The porcelain-ass interface if you will.   Where man meets contraption (concraption?).  The weak link in any piece of adaptive technology such as a prosthetic leg.  And with all due respect and empathy for the disabled, the importance of avoiding chafing and numbing due to pressure points may be of equal concern to handicapped athletes and potty sitting couch potatoes alike.  And that is why I  don't understand the retail mechanism by which toilet seats are sold.  When you go to purchase new kitchen chairs they are not all hanging on a wall.  Same with living room chairs.  And mattresses.  Even bar stools.  One does not walk into a dinette set showroom only to be confronted with a wall full of hanging furniture.  No.  All the seats are on a display floor.  Strategically placed for the leisurely appraisal of durability, stability, and comfort.  So why when I walk into Lowe's or Home Depot are all the toilet seats hanging on a wall??  Are they artwork for purchase?  They are seats.  And a seat, I should point out, which will get more action than the dining room chairs we use twice a year.  And those chairs were carefully vetted over a course of weeks and months of trial and error sitting.  In furniture showrooms across a three county area I might add.

I know what you are thinking.  I should have gone to the Kohler showroom.  Well, that is like telling me to go see a Frank Lloyd Wright house when all I want is a sub division double wide.  Toilet seats are for the masses, and the masses shop at Lowe's, or Walmart, where we actually ended up buying the thing.  Their selection was rather limited which suited me just fine.  If I couldn't try the seat out, I might as well not have too much to choose from anyway.  Though we did fight over cushioned versus firm.  And "whisper close" versus metal hinged (which slam closed).  And satin finish hardware versus shiny.  And wood toned finish (perfect for a log cabin in my opinion, but not Tammy's) versus plain white.  And plastic molded contoured versus melamine covered wood.  And a ten dollar model versus a twenty dollar model which differed only in their respective warranties.  And if you are not clear as to why a toilet seat requires a warranty I refer you to the first paragraph of this essay.