An Revelatory Experience in the Bar Lavatory Queue

Just before Christmas, I encountered an extraordinary incident. I feel it proved instructive. This occurred at a meeting of a group of longtime companions, who are incidentally tooth doctors, but this isn't relevant. The present group were solely men, which turns out to be key.

A Novel Scenario

The venue was a bar and eatery enjoying a roaring trade. A forgotten daytime was shared by the group. Nice cuisine, good libations and surprisingly amusing stories about oral health. Naturally, the moment dawned for excursions to the gents. Those who ventured off, I half-noticed, looked to be gone a significant period. I didn't ponder why this could be, but when it became my turn, all became clear.

Upon turning the bend, and what did I discover but a lengthy line for the men's restroom. Not a single person waiting for the women’s toilet, but a great long one for the men's. What bizarre turn was this? This wasn’t a world any of us in this gathering recognised.

A Taste of Everyday Life

Let me state unequivocally, I do not seek or anticipate pity from any woman here. I am obviously cognizant that, for women, needing to line up to use a public toilet is the norm. On countless occasions have I seen women queuing in a line while men in the same establishment have to do nothing of the sort?

Apart from the hassle of standing in line to use a toilet, there’s a whiff of humiliation about standing there, anticipating something that men usually don’t have to wait for. It was decidedly bracing to get a taste of it myself, watching the women walk straight through the door while I was compelled to wait patiently in line with my companions, angling away at something we had in our pockets and scrolling through our phones.

The Art of Restroom Line Chitchat

There’s a complete conversational genre here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have little familiarity. Women, I presume, have become adept to be rather good at it, exchanging pleasantries and an engaging comment or two.

About this topic I’ve polled some female friends of my knowledge. The consensus is that within-the-line dialogue is restricted to the occasional exasperated look and the utterance: “Forget this, I’m going to use the men’s.” A workmate informed me it’s merely at the washbasins later that conversation tends to start up.

Were I a lady, I’d refrain from on either pleasantries or reticence. If I was forced, over and over, to stand in a shared procession only for the privilege to relieve myself, I’d vent my spleen like nobody’s business at the pure injustice of it. A valuable metric for any civilised society would be equal waiting times in toilet waiting times. I’m looking for research on this.

Comradely Interaction in the Line

During my time in my wait, I endeavoured to spark some brotherly banter flowing about this new circumstance of ours. I clicked my tongue a bit, showed exasperation and uttered something to the effect of: “Ah, this is an unpleasant change, isn't it boys?”

A fellow smiled, a second appeared confused, a other man appeared embarrassed. Yet another shook his head as if this was yet another example of a failing society, political correctness etc. For the most part, silence ensued. A man emerged, fastening his trousers. The group advanced a position. A couple more men joined the rear of it. I sighed.

A Silent Exchange

A lady emerged out of the next-door toilet, all clean and unhurried. It was just fine for some. I smiled bashfully at her, trying to convey recognition of this upside-down state of affairs. She said: “Don't come to me for sympathy, you blighter. Reappear when you’ve experienced this on a regular basis and then I might give you the courtesy.”

In reality, she did not utter that. She said a word. But I believe that’s what she was thinking. And I honestly wouldn’t blame her.