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In the run-up to the holidays, I had an extraordinary episode. I think it was beneficial for me. This took place at a gathering of some old friends, who are, as it happens dental professionals, but it's not pertinent. The present group were all blokes, which turns out to be relevant.

A Strange Situation

The venue was a bar and eatery enjoying a brisk business. A forgotten afternoon was had by all. Nice food, fine drink and surprisingly entertaining stories about dentistry. As expected, the time came for excursions to the gents. Those who ventured off, I half-noticed, looked to be absent a long time. I didn't ponder why this was, but when it was my turn, everything was revealed.

I turned the corner, and what did I discover but a sizeable procession for the gentlemen’s toilet. No queue at all for the women’s toilet, but a considerable queue for the gents'. What strange new world was this? This was not a reality any of us in this gathering recognised.

An Experience of the Norm

To be perfectly clear, I neither court nor expect sympathy from any woman here. I am obviously conscious that, for females, being forced to wait to use a public toilet is an everyday occurrence. How many times have I seen women standing in a queue while men in the same establishment have to do the opposite?

Beyond the annoyance of having to queue to use a convenience, there’s a hint of humiliation about lingering there, waiting for something that men usually don’t have to wait for. It was decidedly bracing to have a sample of it myself, observing the opposite gender glide through the door while I was forced to line up dutifully with others with my fellow fellas, angling away at something we had in our jackets and scrolling through our mobile devices.

The Practice of Toilet Queue Conversation

There’s a complete conversational genre here – restroom waiting talk – of which men have scant knowledge. Ladies, I imagine, have developed skills to be fairly skilled at it, engaging in small talk and an interesting observation or two.

About this topic I’ve consulted some lady acquaintances of my knowledge. The consensus is that intra-queue dialogue is limited to the rare eye roll and the phrase: “Screw this, I’m going to use the male.” A workmate told me it’s only at the sinks afterwards that discussion tends to break out.

Were I a female, I’d refrain from on either pleasantries or reticence. If I was forced, over and over, to wait in a common queue merely for the opportunity to empty my bladder, I’d rant angrily like nobody’s business at the sheer inequity of it. A valuable metric for any modern community would be equal waiting times in wee queue durations. I’m looking for data on this.

Brotherly Chat in the Queue

During my time in my wait, I tried to get some brotherly banter started about this new state of affairs of ours. I clicked my tongue a bit, rolled my eyes and remarked something to the effect of: “Well, this makes an unpleasant difference, doesn’t it boys?”

One person grinned, someone else seemed nonplussed, a third individual seemed awkward. Another gave a dismissive wave as if this was a further example of a failing society, woke madness etc. Aside from that, quiet ensued. A man exited, adjusting his clothing. The line advanced a position. Another two men joined the rear of it. I let out a breath.

An Unspoken Exchange

A female glided out of the neighbouring restroom, all fresh and unhurried. It was just fine for some. I beamed sheepishly at her, attempting to convey acknowledgement of this reversed state of affairs. She said: “Don’t look to me for support, you blighter. Come back when you’ve endured this another hundred times and only then I might give you the courtesy.”

Truthfully, she didn’t say that. She didn’t say anything. But I am convinced that’s what she was feeling. And I truly wouldn’t fault her.