An Eye-Opening Encounter in the Public House Toilet Line

Shortly before Christmas, I encountered an remarkable episode. I think it was beneficial for me. This happened at a get-together of several mates, who are, as it happens dental professionals, but that’s not relevant. The attending party were solely men, which is key.

A Strange Scenario

The location was a bar and eatery enjoying a brisk business. A forgotten daytime was shared by the group. Good cuisine, nice beverages and remarkably entertaining anecdotes about teeth. Inevitably, the point dawned for trips to the men's room. Those who departed, I partially registered, looked to be gone a long time. I didn’t dwell on why this was, but when it became me next, everything was revealed.

Rounding the corner, and what did I discover but a sizeable procession for the gents' lavatory. An empty space for the female facilities, but a considerable queue for the gents'. What bizarre turn was this? This was an unfamiliar scene any of us in this gathering recognised.

An Experience of Common Reality

To be perfectly clear, I am not asking for pity from any woman here. I am fully aware that, for ladies, being forced to wait to use a public toilet is the norm. How many times have I seen women standing in a line while men in the same establishment have to do no such thing?

In addition to the hassle of standing in line to use a toilet, there’s a hint of embarrassment about standing there, waiting for something that men usually don’t have to wait for. It was truly enlightening to have a sample of it myself, observing the other sex glide through the portal while I was compelled to line up dutifully in queue with my companions, looking distractedly at whatever we had in our trouser pockets and scrolling through our phones.

The Practice of Restroom Line Conversation

There’s a entire style of dialogue here – lavatory line banter – of which men have scant familiarity. Females, I surmise, have developed skills to be rather good at it, sharing polite remarks and an interesting observation or two.

Regarding this I’ve asked some lady acquaintances of my acquaintance. The prevailing view is that queue-based dialogue is limited to the occasional weary glance and the phrase: “Forget this, I’m going to use the male.” A workmate told me it’s exclusively at the washbasins afterwards that chat tends to break out.

If I was a lady, I’d waste no time on either pleasantries or reticence. If I was compelled, time and again, to wait in a common queue only for the privilege to empty my bladder, I’d vent my spleen like there was no tomorrow at the utter injustice of it. A valuable benchmark for any modern culture would be balanced access in urination queue durations. I’m seeking out studies on this.

Comradely Interaction in the Line

During my time in my wait, I endeavoured to get some brotherly banter started about this new situation of ours. I sighed a bit, rolled my eyes and said something to the effect of: “Well, this is an irksome change, doesn’t it boys?”

One person grinned, another seemed nonplussed, a other man appeared embarrassed. Another shook his head as if this was yet another manifestation of broken Britain, political correctness etc. Otherwise, silence reigned. A man emerged, fastening his trousers. The queue advanced a spot. Two more men took a place at the end of it. I let out a breath.

A Knowing Interaction

A woman emerged out of the neighbouring toilet, all clean and unhurried. It was all right for some. I beamed sheepishly at her, trying to express an understanding of this upside-down state of affairs. Her response was: “Don't come to me for sympathy, you blighter. Return when you’ve done this a hundred more times and at that point I could give you the courtesy.”

Truthfully, she didn’t say that. She didn’t say nothing. But I believe that’s what she was thinking. And I honestly wouldn’t censure her.