A Genuinely Illuminating Incident in the Public House Restroom Procession

Shortly before Christmas, I had an extraordinary episode. I think it proved instructive. This occurred at a get-together of a group of longtime companions, who are, as it happens dental professionals, but it's not important. The attending party were exclusively male, which is significant.

A Novel Situation

The location was a bar and eatery enjoying a excellent custom. A lost afternoon was shared by the group. Good cuisine, fine drink and unexpectedly humorous stories about oral health. Inevitably, the point arrived for visits to the male facilities. Those who ventured off, I partially registered, looked to be absent a considerable while. I didn’t dwell on why this was, but when it was my turn, everything was revealed.

I turned the corner, and what awaited me but a long queue for the gents' lavatory. An empty space for the female facilities, 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.

A Sample of Everyday Life

Let me state unequivocally, I do not seek or anticipate empathy from any lady here. I am acutely conscious that, for ladies, needing to line up to use a convenience is the norm. On countless occasions have I seen women waiting in a queue while men in the same establishment have to do no such thing?

Beyond the annoyance of having to queue to use a facility, there’s a hint of humiliation about waiting there, waiting for something that men typically don’t have to endure. It was decidedly sobering to get a taste of it myself, watching the opposite gender breeze through the door while I was obliged to line up dutifully in line with my mates, fiddling at anything we had in our trouser pockets and consulting our mobile devices.

The Genre of Lavatory Queue Conversation

There’s a whole conversational genre here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have scant knowledge. Women, I imagine, have become adept to be quite proficient at it, sharing small talk and an notable comment or two.

Regarding this I’ve asked some lady acquaintances of my circle. The prevailing view is that queue-based interaction is restricted to the rare eye roll and the utterance: “Forget this, I’m going to use the gents'.” A workmate told me it’s only at the washbasins subsequently that conversation tends to begin.

Had I been a lady, I’d not spend a moment on both niceties or silence. If I was obliged, over and over, to wait in a common queue only for the privilege to use the toilet, I’d rant angrily like there was no tomorrow at the sheer unfairness of it. A useful benchmark for any modern society would be balanced access in wee lining-up periods. I’m researching research on this.

Comradely Banter in the Line

During my time in my wait, I tried to initiate some male camaraderie going about this new state of affairs of ours. I sighed a bit, showed exasperation and said something like: “Well, this makes an irksome change, right boys?”

A fellow chuckled, another appeared confused, a third seemed awkward. Yet another shook his head as if this was yet another manifestation of broken Britain, political correctness etc. Otherwise, silence prevailed. An individual came out, adjusting his clothing. The queue advanced a place. Two more men joined the back of it. I let out a breath.

A Knowing Interaction

A lady glided out of the neighbouring restroom, all fragrant and relaxed. It was perfectly okay for some. I smiled sheepishly at her, trying to communicate an understanding of this reversed state of affairs. She said: “Don't turn to me for sympathy, you jerk. Return when you’ve experienced this a hundred more times and at that point I may give you the time of day.”

In reality, she did not utter that. She said a word. But I believe that’s what she was thinking. And I really would not fault her.