🔗 Share this article

Shortly before Christmas, I had an extraordinary episode. I believe it was beneficial for me. This occurred at a get-together of a group of longtime companions, who happen to be dental professionals, but this isn't important. The assembled crowd were solely men, which proves to be relevant.

A Novel Scenario

The establishment was a pub/restaurant enjoying a roaring trade. A forgotten session was enjoyed by everyone. Fine food, good libations and remarkably humorous stories about oral health. As expected, the point dawned for visits to the gents. Those who departed, I partially registered, appeared to be away a significant period. I didn't contemplate the reason this was, but when it became me next, the mystery was solved.

I turned the corner, and what did I discover but a sizeable procession for the gentlemen’s toilet. An empty space for the women’s toilet, but a considerable queue for the men’s. What bizarre turn was this? This was not a reality any of us in this queue were accustomed to.

An Experience of Common Reality

To be perfectly clear, I neither court nor expect empathy from any lady here. I am acutely aware that, for women, needing to line up to use a restroom is an everyday occurrence. On countless occasions have I witnessed women standing in a line while men in the comparable place have to do the opposite?

Beyond the inconvenience of needing to wait to use a facility, there’s a tinge of embarrassment about standing there, awaiting something that men typically don’t have to endure. It was profoundly enlightening to experience a dose of it myself, watching the women glide through the entrance while I was forced to wait patiently in line with my companions, angling away at anything we had in our pockets and consulting our handsets.

The Practice of Lavatory Queue Chitchat

There’s a complete style of dialogue here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have minimal knowledge. Ladies, I surmise, have learned to be quite proficient at it, sharing polite remarks and an notable comment or two.

About this topic I’ve polled some female friends of my acquaintance. The prevailing view is that queue-based dialogue is confined to the occasional weary glance and the phrase: “Fuck this, I’m going to use the gents'.” A colleague told me it’s merely at the washbasins subsequently that conversation tends to start up.

Were I a woman, I’d refrain from on either pleasantries or reticence. If I was forced, time and again, to stand in a common queue only for the opportunity to use the toilet, I’d express my fury like crazy at the pure injustice of it. A handy metric for any modern culture would be gender parity in urination lining-up periods. I’m seeking out data on this.

Comradely Banter in the Queue

Returning to my wait, I tried to get some friendly chat started about this unprecedented circumstance of ours. I sighed a bit, showed exasperation and remarked something along the lines of: “Ah, this makes an irksome difference, right chaps?”

One person grinned, a second appeared confused, a third looked sheepish. Another rolled his eyes as if this was one more symptom of a failing society, woke madness etc. Otherwise, silence reigned. An individual exited, zipping up. The line shuffled up a place. Two more men took a place at the back of it. I sighed.

A Knowing Moment

A female glided out of the adjacent facility, all clean and at ease. It was perfectly okay for some. I grinned sheepishly at her, endeavouring to communicate acknowledgement of this upside-down situation. She remarked: “Don’t look to me for solidarity, you blighter. Return when you’ve experienced this on a regular basis and only then I might give you the time of day.”

Actually, she didn’t say that. She said nothing. But I know that’s what she was implying. And I truly wouldn’t fault her.