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Just before the festive season, I encountered an remarkable incident. I believe it was beneficial for me. This occurred at a gathering of some old friends, who are incidentally dentists, but it's not pertinent. The attending party were solely men, which proves to be key.

A Strange Predicament

The location was a tavern enjoying a roaring trade. A lost session was had by all. Fine cuisine, nice libations and unexpectedly amusing tales about dentistry. Inevitably, the time arrived for excursions to the men's room. Those who departed, I partially registered, looked to be gone a significant period. I didn't ponder the reason this was, but when it was my turn, all became clear.

Upon turning the bend, and what awaited me but a sizeable procession for the men's restroom. No queue at all for the women’s toilet, but a considerable queue for the men's. What strange new world was this? This wasn’t a world any of us in this queue were accustomed to.

An Experience of Common Reality

Let me state unequivocally, I am not asking for pity from any lady here. I am acutely aware that, for women, having to queue to use a restroom is an everyday occurrence. How many times have I witnessed women standing in a row while men in the comparable place have to do the opposite?

Beyond the annoyance of having to queue to use a facility, there’s a whiff of embarrassment about standing there, anticipating something that men usually don’t have to endure. It was truly enlightening to have a sample of it myself, seeing the opposite gender breeze through the door while I was compelled to line up dutifully with others with my mates, fiddling at something we had in our jackets and checking our phones.

The Genre of Restroom Line Chitchat

There’s a whole conversational genre here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have little familiarity. Ladies, I presume, have learned to be rather good at it, exchanging pleasantries and an engaging insight or two.

On this I’ve polled some female friends of my knowledge. The general agreement is that intra-queue dialogue is confined to the occasional eye roll and the comment: “Forget this, I’m going to use the male.” A colleague mentioned it’s exclusively at the sinks subsequently that chat tends to start up.

If I was a woman, I’d refrain from on both niceties or reticence. If I was compelled, repeatedly, to stand in a public line simply for the chance to use the toilet, I’d vent my spleen like there was no tomorrow at the pure unfairness of it. A handy measure for any advanced society would be balanced access in urination lining-up periods. I’m seeking out studies on this.

Male Interaction in the Queue

Back in my wait, I endeavoured to spark some male camaraderie started about this unprecedented circumstance of ours. I tutted a bit, showed exasperation and uttered something like: “So, this represents an disagreeable variation, isn't it boys?”

Someone grinned, another looked blank, a third individual seemed awkward. A further person rolled his eyes as if this was a further symptom of modern woes, political correctness etc. Aside from that, quiet reigned. A man emerged, zipping up. The group advanced a position. Another two men joined the rear of it. I exhaled.

A Silent Exchange

A woman emerged out of the adjacent restroom, all fragrant and at ease. It was perfectly okay for some. I smiled apologetically at her, trying to communicate an understanding of this topsy-turvy scenario. Her response was: “Don’t look to me for sympathy, you bastard. Come back when you’ve endured this a hundred more times and only then I could give you the time.”

In reality, she did not utter that. She didn’t say nothing. But I am convinced that’s what she was implying. And I really could not censure her.