🔗 Share this article

In the run-up to Christmas, I had an unusual episode. I believe it was beneficial for me. This happened at a get-together of a group of longtime companions, who are incidentally tooth doctors, but that’s not relevant. The present crowd were exclusively male, which turns out to be relevant.

A Strange Predicament

The location was a bar and eatery doing a roaring trade. A lost afternoon was enjoyed by everyone. Nice fare, fine beverages and surprisingly humorous stories about teeth. Naturally, the time dawned for visits to the men's room. Those who ventured off, I partially registered, appeared to be away a long time. I didn't ponder why this was, but when it came to my turn, everything was revealed.

I turned the corner, and what should I find but a long queue for the men's restroom. Not a single person waiting for the women’s toilet, but a substantial line for the men's. What bizarre turn was this? This was an unfamiliar scene any of us in this line were accustomed to.

A Taste of Common Reality

For the avoidance of doubt, I am not asking for sympathy from any lady here. I am fully cognizant that, for women, needing to line up to use a convenience is an everyday occurrence. How many times have I seen women standing in a line while men in the identical venue have to do no such thing?

In addition to the hassle of needing to wait to use a convenience, there’s a hint of embarrassment about standing there, waiting for something that men usually don’t have to experience. It was profoundly bracing to get a taste of it myself, seeing the women walk straight through the entrance while I was compelled to wait patiently in line with my mates, angling away at whatever we had in our trouser pockets and scrolling through our handsets.

The Genre of Toilet Queue Conversation

There’s a complete style of dialogue here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have scant familiarity. Females, I surmise, have learned to be fairly skilled at it, sharing pleasantries and an interesting comment or two.

About this topic I’ve consulted some female friends of my circle. The consensus is that queue-based dialogue is confined to the rare exasperated look and the utterance: “Screw this, I’m going to use the gents'.” A associate mentioned it’s merely at the washbasins subsequently that conversation tends to begin.

If I was a lady, I’d waste no time on either small talk or quiet. If I was obliged, time and again, to stand in a common queue simply for the opportunity to use the toilet, I’d vent my spleen like crazy at the sheer injustice of it. A handy metric for any modern society would be equal waiting times in toilet waiting times. I’m looking for studies on this.

Male Interaction in the Line

Back in my wait, I endeavoured to initiate some brotherly banter started about this unprecedented circumstance of ours. I sighed a bit, gave a weary look and uttered something like: “So, this makes an unpleasant difference, right boys?”

A fellow grinned, someone else seemed nonplussed, a other man seemed awkward. Yet another rolled his eyes as if this was one more symptom of broken Britain, cultural decline etc. Otherwise, silence reigned. An individual emerged, adjusting his clothing. The group moved forward a spot. Another two men joined the back of it. I exhaled.

A Knowing Interaction

A woman wafted out of the adjacent facility, all fragrant and relaxed. It was perfectly okay for some. I grinned sheepishly at her, attempting to convey acknowledgement of this topsy-turvy situation. Her response was: “Don’t look to me for solidarity, you jerk. Come back when you’ve experienced this a hundred more times and then I could give you the courtesy.”

Truthfully, she didn’t say that. She didn’t say nothing. But I am convinced that’s what she was thinking. And I truly would not censure her.