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In the run-up to the holidays, I experienced an remarkable incident. I believe it was beneficial for me. This happened at a gathering of a group of longtime companions, who happen to be dental professionals, but it's not pertinent. The assembled crowd were all blokes, which turns out to be key.

A Novel Scenario

The venue was a tavern doing a excellent custom. A wasted session was shared by the group. Nice fare, fine libations and unexpectedly humorous stories about dentistry. Inevitably, the point arrived for excursions to the male facilities. Those who departed, I vaguely observed, appeared to be absent a considerable while. I didn’t dwell on why this might have been, but when it came to my go, the mystery was solved.

Upon turning the bend, and what did I discover but a long queue for the gentlemen’s toilet. No queue at all for the ladies' room, but a considerable queue for the gents'. What strange new world was this? This wasn’t a world any of us in this line knew.

A Taste of Common Reality

To be perfectly clear, I neither court nor expect sympathy from any female reader here. I am fully conscious that, for women, having to queue to use a public toilet is standard practice. On countless occasions have I witnessed women queuing in a row while men in the same establishment have to do the opposite?

Apart from the annoyance of having to queue to use a facility, there’s a whiff of embarrassment about standing there, awaiting something that men generally don’t have to experience. It was profoundly enlightening to have a sample of it myself, seeing the opposite gender walk straight through the portal while I was compelled to wait patiently in queue with my mates, angling away at whatever we had in our trouser pockets and scrolling through our handsets.

The Genre of Restroom Line Banter

There’s a entire conversational genre here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have little knowledge. Women, I imagine, have learned to be quite proficient at it, sharing small talk and an interesting comment or two.

About this topic I’ve consulted some lady acquaintances of my circle. The prevailing view is that intra-queue dialogue is confined to the odd exasperated look and the phrase: “Forget this, I’m going to use the men’s.” A associate mentioned it’s exclusively at the washbasins afterwards that chat tends to break out.

Were I a female, I’d waste no time on both niceties or reticence. If I was compelled, repeatedly, to stand in a public line merely for the privilege to relieve myself, I’d express my fury like there was no tomorrow at the pure inequity of it. A handy benchmark for any advanced culture would be gender parity in urination waiting times. I’m seeking out research on this.

Brotherly Chat in the Line

Returning to my line, I endeavoured to initiate some friendly chat flowing about this unprecedented situation of ours. I clicked my tongue a bit, showed exasperation and said something like: “Well, this represents an irksome difference, isn't it lads?”

A fellow grinned, another seemed nonplussed, a other man seemed awkward. Another rolled his eyes as if this was one more symptom of modern woes, cultural decline etc. Otherwise, quiet prevailed. A man exited, fastening his trousers. The queue advanced a position. A couple more men joined the rear of it. I sighed.

A Silent Interaction

A female emerged out of the next-door toilet, all fragrant and unhurried. It was just fine for some. I smiled sheepishly at her, attempting to convey recognition of this reversed situation. Her response was: “Don’t look to me for support, you bastard. Return when you’ve done this another hundred times and only then I could give you the time.”

Truthfully, she did not utter that. She said anything. But I believe that’s what she was thinking. And I truly wouldn’t fault her.