An Eye-Opening Experience in the Pub Toilet Queue

In the run-up to Christmas, I encountered an extraordinary incident. I think it proved instructive. This took place at a gathering of several mates, who are, as it happens dental professionals, but this isn't important. The present party were solely men, which is relevant.

A Novel Predicament

The venue was a tavern experiencing a roaring trade. A lost daytime was had by all. Good food, fine beverages and surprisingly amusing stories about dentistry. Inevitably, the time arrived for excursions to the men's room. Those who ventured off, I vaguely observed, looked to be absent a long time. I didn't ponder the reason this could be, but when it was my go, all became clear.

Rounding the corner, and what should I find but a sizeable procession for the gents' lavatory. No queue at all for the female facilities, but a great long one for the men’s. What strange new world was this? This was an unfamiliar scene any of us in this line were accustomed to.

An Experience of the Norm

For the avoidance of doubt, I am not asking for pity from any female reader here. I am obviously aware that, for females, being forced to wait to use a restroom is standard practice. How many times have I seen women waiting in a queue while men in the same establishment have to do the opposite?

Apart from the annoyance of having to queue to use a toilet, there’s a tinge of embarrassment about lingering there, anticipating something that men generally don’t have to wait for. It was decidedly bracing to experience a dose of it myself, observing the women breeze through the door while I was obliged to wait patiently in queue with my companions, angling away at whatever we had in our pockets and scrolling through our mobile devices.

The Practice of Toilet Queue Chitchat

There’s a complete style of dialogue here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have little experience. Women, I imagine, have become adept to be rather good at it, exchanging pleasantries and an engaging observation or two.

About this topic I’ve consulted some lady acquaintances of my circle. The prevailing view is that queue-based interaction is limited to the occasional exasperated look and the utterance: “Fuck this, I’m going to use the male.” A colleague informed me it’s merely at the hand-washing stations later that chat tends to start up.

Were I a female, I’d waste no time on both small talk or reticence. If I was compelled, repeatedly, to queue in a shared procession simply for the opportunity to use the toilet, I’d rant angrily like nobody’s business at the pure unfairness of it. A useful measure for any civilised society would be balanced access in wee lining-up periods. I’m researching research on this.

Comradely Chat in the Line

Returning to my wait, I endeavoured to spark some friendly chat flowing about this new state of affairs of ours. I clicked my tongue a bit, gave a weary look and remarked something along the lines of: “Well, this is an irksome change, doesn’t it chaps?”

A fellow grinned, another appeared confused, a other man appeared embarrassed. Yet another shook his head as if this was yet another example of a failing society, political correctness etc. For the most part, stillness ensued. An individual exited, adjusting his clothing. The group advanced a place. Two more men took a place at the back of it. I exhaled.

A Knowing Interaction

A woman emerged out of the next-door toilet, all fresh and relaxed. It was perfectly okay for some. I smiled bashfully at her, endeavouring to express acknowledgement of this reversed state of affairs. She remarked: “Don't come to me for solidarity, you jerk. Come back when you’ve endured this another hundred times and only then I could give you the courtesy.”

Actually, she never spoke that. She said anything. But I know that’s what she was implying. And I truly could not censure her.