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In the run-up to the holidays, I had an remarkable episode. I feel it was beneficial for me. This took place at a meeting of a group of longtime companions, who are, as it happens tooth doctors, but that’s not important. The attending crowd were exclusively male, which is significant.

A Novel Situation

The location was a tavern enjoying a roaring trade. A wasted daytime was shared by the group. Fine cuisine, fine beverages and remarkably entertaining anecdotes about teeth. Inevitably, the moment dawned for visits to the gents. Those who went, I half-noticed, seemed to be away a long time. I didn’t dwell on the reason this was, but when it came to me next, the mystery was solved.

I turned the corner, and what did I discover but a sizeable procession for the gentlemen’s toilet. An empty space for the women’s toilet, but a considerable queue for the gents'. What bizarre turn was this? This was not a reality any of us in this gathering were accustomed to.

A Sample of the Norm

To be perfectly clear, I am not asking for sympathy from any woman here. I am fully cognizant that, for females, being forced to wait to use a public toilet is standard practice. Repeatedly have I seen women standing in a queue while men in the comparable place have to do no such thing?

Apart from the annoyance of needing to wait to use a facility, there’s a hint of embarrassment about waiting there, waiting for something that men typically don’t have to endure. It was decidedly enlightening to experience a dose of it myself, observing the women breeze through the entrance while I was compelled to wait patiently in line with my fellow fellas, looking distractedly at something we had in our trouser pockets and consulting our handsets.

The Practice of Toilet Queue Chitchat

There’s a entire form of small talk here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have little familiarity. Females, I presume, have learned to be quite proficient at it, engaging in pleasantries and an notable comment or two.

Regarding this I’ve polled some lady acquaintances of my acquaintance. The prevailing view is that within-the-line dialogue is limited to the odd exasperated look and the phrase: “Forget this, I’m going to use the men’s.” A workmate told me it’s exclusively at the hand-washing stations later that chat tends to break out.

If I was a woman, I’d refrain from on either small talk or quiet. If I was obliged, repeatedly, to stand in a common queue only for the chance to use the toilet, I’d vent my spleen like nobody’s business at the utter inequity of it. A useful measure for any civilised community would be balanced access in urination queue durations. I’m researching research on this.

Male Interaction in the Queue

Returning to my queue, I attempted to initiate some brotherly banter started about this new circumstance of ours. I clicked my tongue a bit, rolled my eyes and uttered something like: “So, this makes an unpleasant difference, isn't it boys?”

Someone smiled, someone else appeared confused, a third individual seemed awkward. Another shook his head as if this was one more example of a failing society, cultural decline etc. Aside from that, silence reigned. A man came out, adjusting his clothing. The queue shuffled up a position. Two more men joined the rear of it. I exhaled.

A Silent Interaction

A lady wafted out of the neighbouring toilet, all fresh and relaxed. It was all right for some. I beamed apologetically at her, endeavouring to convey an understanding of this topsy-turvy scenario. She remarked: “Don’t look to me for solidarity, you jerk. Reappear when you’ve done this a hundred more times and at that point I might give you the courtesy.”

In reality, she never spoke that. She didn’t say anything. But I believe that’s what she was thinking. And I really wouldn’t blame her.