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Shortly before Christmas, I encountered an extraordinary situation. I feel it proved instructive. This occurred at a gathering of several mates, who happen to be dental professionals, but this isn't pertinent. The attending group were solely men, which proves to be relevant.

A Novel Situation

The venue was a bar and eatery enjoying a roaring trade. A wasted daytime was enjoyed by everyone. Good cuisine, nice libations and remarkably entertaining tales about oral health. Naturally, the time came for excursions to the gents. Those who ventured off, I vaguely observed, seemed to be absent a long time. I didn't ponder the reason this could be, but when it became me next, the mystery was solved.

Rounding the corner, and what did I discover but a sizeable procession for the gents' lavatory. Not a single person waiting for the ladies' room, but a substantial line for the men’s. What bizarre turn was this? This was not a reality any of us in this line knew.

A Sample of the Norm

To be perfectly clear, I do not seek or anticipate sympathy from any woman here. I am obviously conscious that, for females, needing to line up to use a public toilet is the norm. On countless occasions have I observed women queuing in a queue while men in the same establishment have to do the opposite?

In addition to the annoyance of needing to wait to use a toilet, there’s a hint of embarrassment about waiting there, awaiting something that men usually don’t have to wait for. It was decidedly sobering to get a taste of it myself, watching the women breeze through the entrance while I was compelled to stand solemnly with others with my mates, fiddling at something we had in our jackets and consulting our phones.

The Practice of Restroom Line Chitchat

There’s a whole style of dialogue here – restroom waiting talk – of which men have little familiarity. Women, I presume, have become adept to be rather good at it, engaging in pleasantries and an notable comment or two.

About this topic I’ve asked some female friends of my acquaintance. The consensus is that within-the-line interaction is limited to the rare exasperated look and the phrase: “Fuck this, I’m going to use the gents'.” A associate told me it’s exclusively at the hand-washing stations subsequently that conversation tends to begin.

If I was a lady, I’d refrain from on either pleasantries or reticence. If I was forced, repeatedly, to stand in a shared procession merely for the privilege to use the toilet, I’d rant angrily like nobody’s business at the utter injustice of it. A handy measure for any modern community would be gender parity in wee lining-up periods. I’m seeking out data on this.

Male Interaction in the Line

During my time in my wait, I tried to spark some friendly chat going about this novel situation of ours. I sighed a bit, rolled my eyes and uttered something like: “So, this makes an disagreeable difference, doesn’t it lads?”

One person chuckled, another looked blank, a third individual seemed awkward. A further person gave a dismissive wave as if this was a further manifestation of a failing society, woke madness etc. Otherwise, stillness prevailed. A man came out, fastening his trousers. The queue advanced a place. Another two men entered the rear of it. I sighed.

An Unspoken Exchange

A woman emerged out of the next-door facility, all fresh and at ease. It was perfectly okay for some. I beamed apologetically at her, endeavouring to convey recognition of this reversed scenario. Her response was: “Don't turn to me for sympathy, you jerk. Come back when you’ve experienced this a hundred more times and then I may give you the time.”

In reality, she never spoke that. She uttered nothing. But I believe that’s what she was implying. And I honestly could not fault her.