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Just before the holidays, I experienced an unusual situation. I think it was beneficial for me. This occurred at a gathering of several mates, who are, as it happens dental professionals, but it's not relevant. The present party were exclusively male, which proves to be key.

A Novel Predicament

The venue was a bar and eatery doing a roaring trade. A wasted session was shared by the group. Good fare, nice drink and unexpectedly humorous stories about dentistry. Inevitably, the time came for visits to the male facilities. Those who departed, I half-noticed, seemed to be absent a long time. I didn't ponder why this was, but when it came to my go, all became clear.

Rounding the corner, and what should I find but a sizeable procession for the men's restroom. Not a single person waiting 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 knew.

A Sample of the Norm

For the avoidance of doubt, I am not asking for pity from any lady here. I am obviously aware that, for women, having to queue to use a public toilet is standard practice. Repeatedly have I seen women queuing in a line while men in the comparable place have to do the opposite?

Beyond the inconvenience of needing to wait to use a convenience, there’s a hint of embarrassment about lingering there, anticipating something that men usually don’t have to experience. It was decidedly sobering to get a taste of it myself, seeing the opposite gender breeze through the portal while I was compelled to wait patiently in queue with my mates, angling away at something we had in our trouser pockets and scrolling through our phones.

The Practice of Toilet Queue Conversation

There’s a whole conversational genre here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have minimal experience. Ladies, I imagine, have learned to be quite proficient at it, engaging in pleasantries and an interesting insight or two.

About this topic I’ve polled some lady acquaintances of my knowledge. The consensus is that within-the-line dialogue is confined to the occasional weary glance and the utterance: “Screw this, I’m going to use the gents'.” A workmate mentioned it’s only at the sinks later that chat tends to start up.

Had I been a female, I’d waste no time on both niceties or silence. If I was forced, over and over, to wait in a common queue only for the privilege to use the toilet, I’d express my fury like crazy at the sheer inequity of it. A valuable benchmark for any advanced culture would be balanced access in toilet waiting times. I’m researching studies on this.

Comradely Interaction in the Procession

Back in my queue, I endeavoured to initiate some brotherly banter going about this new circumstance of ours. I sighed a bit, gave a weary look and remarked something along the lines of: “So, this makes an disagreeable variation, right lads?”

Someone smiled, a second appeared confused, a third seemed awkward. A further person gave a dismissive wave as if this was a further example of modern woes, political correctness etc. Otherwise, quiet prevailed. Someone came out, zipping up. The queue moved forward a position. Another two men took a place at the end of it. I sighed.

An Unspoken Moment

A woman emerged out of the next-door restroom, all clean and unhurried. It was all right for some. I beamed bashfully at her, trying to communicate recognition of this reversed scenario. She remarked: “Don't turn to me for sympathy, you bastard. Come back when you’ve done this a hundred more times and only then I may give you the time.”

Truthfully, she didn’t say that. She uttered a word. But I am convinced that’s what she was feeling. And I truly wouldn’t censure her.