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Just before the holidays, I encountered an extraordinary situation. I think it did me good. This occurred at a get-together of some old friends, who are incidentally dentists, but this isn't important. The attending party were exclusively male, which is significant.

An Unfamiliar Predicament

The location was a bar and eatery experiencing a brisk business. A wasted afternoon was had by all. Fine fare, nice beverages and remarkably amusing tales about oral health. Inevitably, the point came for trips to the male facilities. Those who departed, I partially registered, seemed to be absent a significant period. I didn’t dwell on why this was, but when it was my turn, everything was revealed.

Upon turning the bend, and what awaited me but a lengthy line for the gents' lavatory. No queue at all for the ladies' room, but a great long one for the men’s. What bizarre turn was this? This was not a reality any of us in this gathering were accustomed to.

An Experience of Everyday Life

Let me state unequivocally, I am not asking for empathy from any woman here. I am acutely cognizant that, for ladies, needing to line up to use a convenience is an everyday occurrence. On countless occasions have I observed women standing in a queue while men in the identical venue have to do the opposite?

In addition to the annoyance of standing in line to use a toilet, there’s a whiff of embarrassment about lingering there, awaiting something that men usually don’t have to endure. It was truly bracing to get a taste of it myself, observing the opposite gender walk straight through the entrance while I was forced to line up dutifully in queue with my companions, looking distractedly at whatever we had in our trouser pockets and consulting our phones.

The Genre of Toilet Queue Conversation

There’s a entire conversational genre here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have little experience. Women, I presume, have become adept to be quite proficient at it, engaging in pleasantries and an engaging observation or two.

About this topic I’ve consulted some lady acquaintances of my circle. The prevailing view is that within-the-line dialogue is limited to the occasional exasperated look and the comment: “Forget this, I’m going to use the gents'.” A workmate told me it’s exclusively at the hand-washing stations subsequently that discussion tends to begin.

If I was a female, I’d refrain from on both pleasantries or quiet. If I was forced, repeatedly, to stand in a shared procession simply for the opportunity to empty my bladder, I’d vent my spleen like crazy at the utter unfairness of it. A handy metric for any civilised community would be balanced access in toilet lining-up periods. I’m seeking out research on this.

Male Interaction in the Line

Back in my line, I endeavoured to initiate some brotherly banter flowing about this new situation of ours. I clicked my tongue a bit, gave a weary look and remarked something like: “Ah, this represents an disagreeable variation, isn't it boys?”

A fellow chuckled, someone else looked blank, a third individual looked sheepish. A further person rolled his eyes as if this was yet another symptom of a failing society, cultural decline etc. For the most part, stillness prevailed. An individual exited, fastening his trousers. The line moved forward a position. Another two men entered the end of it. I let out a breath.

An Unspoken Moment

A woman glided out of the adjacent toilet, all fragrant and unhurried. It was all right for some. I smiled apologetically at her, endeavouring to communicate recognition of this upside-down scenario. She remarked: “Don't come to me for sympathy, you blighter. Return when you’ve endured this on a regular basis and only then I may give you the time.”

Truthfully, she did not utter that. She didn’t say nothing. But I believe that’s what she was implying. And I truly wouldn’t fault her.