🔗 Share this article A Truly Revelatory Encounter in the Public House Toilet Queue In the run-up to the festive season, I encountered an extraordinary incident. I believe it was beneficial for me. This took place at a meeting of a group of longtime companions, who are incidentally dental professionals, but this isn't important. The present group were solely men, which is significant. A Novel Scenario The venue was a tavern experiencing a roaring trade. A wasted afternoon was enjoyed by everyone. Nice food, fine libations and unexpectedly amusing stories about teeth. Inevitably, the point came for trips to the men's room. Those who ventured off, I vaguely observed, appeared to be absent a significant period. I didn't contemplate the reason this might have been, but when it came to my go, all became clear. Rounding the corner, and what did I discover but a long queue for the gents' lavatory. Not a single person waiting for the ladies' room, but a substantial line for the gents'. What strange new world was this? This was an unfamiliar scene any of us in this gathering knew. An Experience of Everyday Life Let me state unequivocally, I neither court nor expect sympathy from any female reader here. I am fully aware that, for females, needing to line up to use a restroom is an everyday occurrence. How many times have I witnessed women queuing in a queue while men in the identical venue have to do no such thing? Beyond the inconvenience of needing to wait to use a toilet, there’s a tinge of humiliation about waiting there, waiting for something that men typically don’t have to wait for. It was decidedly enlightening to experience a dose of it myself, watching the other sex glide through the portal while I was compelled to wait patiently with others with my fellow fellas, looking distractedly at whatever we had in our trouser pockets and checking our handsets. The Art of Restroom Line Conversation There’s a complete conversational genre here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have minimal experience. Ladies, I imagine, have developed skills to be rather good at it, exchanging small talk and an notable insight or two. About this topic I’ve polled some lady acquaintances of my knowledge. The general agreement is that intra-queue dialogue is limited to the rare exasperated look and the comment: “Forget this, I’m going to use the gents'.” A workmate told me it’s merely at the sinks subsequently that discussion tends to start up. If I was a woman, I’d waste no time on either pleasantries or quiet. If I was forced, over and over, to wait in a common queue simply for the opportunity to use the toilet, I’d express my fury like crazy at the utter injustice of it. A useful measure for any modern culture would be equal waiting times in wee lining-up periods. I’m looking for data on this. Male Banter in the Line Back in my queue, I attempted to initiate some brotherly banter started about this unprecedented circumstance of ours. I clicked my tongue a bit, showed exasperation and said something like: “Ah, this represents an irksome variation, doesn’t it boys?” Someone chuckled, a second seemed nonplussed, a third individual seemed awkward. A further person gave a dismissive wave as if this was a further symptom of broken Britain, woke madness etc. Otherwise, stillness prevailed. A man exited, zipping up. The line moved forward a place. Two more men took a place at the end of it. I exhaled. A Silent Exchange A female glided out of the neighbouring restroom, all clean and unhurried. It was just fine for some. I grinned apologetically at her, endeavouring to express an understanding of this reversed situation. She remarked: “Don't come to me for support, you bastard. Come back when you’ve done this a hundred more times and only then I could give you the time of day.” Actually, she never spoke that. She didn’t say a word. But I know that’s what she was implying. And I honestly wouldn’t censure her.