🔗 Share this article

Just before the holidays, I experienced an extraordinary episode. I believe it proved instructive. This occurred at a gathering of some old friends, who are, as it happens dental professionals, but it's not important. The present party were solely men, which proves to be significant.

A Strange Scenario

The venue was a bar and eatery enjoying a brisk business. A lost afternoon was shared by the group. Fine cuisine, nice drink and remarkably entertaining anecdotes about teeth. Naturally, the point dawned for excursions to the gents. Those who ventured off, I partially registered, appeared to be away a significant period. I didn’t dwell on the reason this might have been, but when it came to me next, all became clear.

Upon turning the bend, and what did I discover but a long queue for the gentlemen’s toilet. No queue at all for the female facilities, but a considerable queue for the gents'. What bizarre turn was this? This wasn’t a world any of us in this line recognised.

A Sample of Everyday Life

To be perfectly clear, I do not seek or anticipate pity from any female reader here. I am acutely aware that, for ladies, being forced to wait to use a convenience is an everyday occurrence. How many times have I seen women standing in a row while men in the same establishment have to do the opposite?

Apart from the annoyance of standing in line to use a toilet, there’s a tinge of embarrassment about standing there, anticipating something that men generally don’t have to endure. It was truly bracing to have a sample of it myself, observing the opposite gender glide through the door while I was forced to stand solemnly in line with my mates, looking distractedly at something we had in our jackets and scrolling through our handsets.

The Art of Toilet Queue Chitchat

There’s a entire form of small talk here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have scant knowledge. Women, I presume, have developed skills to be rather good at it, exchanging pleasantries and an notable comment or two.

On this I’ve asked some female friends of my circle. The general agreement is that within-the-line communication is confined to the rare eye roll and the comment: “Screw this, I’m going to use the men’s.” A colleague informed me it’s only at the sinks subsequently that discussion tends to begin.

Were I a woman, I’d refrain from on both pleasantries or reticence. If I was compelled, time and again, to queue in a public line only for the chance to relieve myself, I’d vent my spleen like crazy at the pure injustice of it. A useful benchmark for any civilised community would be balanced access in toilet waiting times. I’m looking for studies on this.

Comradely Interaction in the Queue

Back in my line, I endeavoured to spark some male camaraderie flowing about this new situation of ours. I sighed a bit, showed exasperation and said something along the lines of: “Well, this is an irksome difference, doesn’t it boys?”

Someone chuckled, a second looked blank, a third individual seemed awkward. Yet another rolled his eyes as if this was one more example of broken Britain, cultural decline etc. For the most part, quiet reigned. Someone came out, zipping up. The line advanced a place. Two more men took a place at the back of it. I exhaled.

A Silent Interaction

A female glided out of the neighbouring facility, all fresh and unhurried. It was all right for some. I grinned sheepishly at her, trying to express recognition of this reversed situation. She said: “Don't come to me for support, you jerk. Return when you’ve done this a hundred more times and at that point I could give you the courtesy.”

Actually, she did not utter that. She didn’t say a word. But I am convinced that’s what she was implying. And I honestly wouldn’t censure her.