A Genuinely Eye-Opening Experience in the Public House Restroom Queue

Shortly before the holidays, I experienced an unusual situation. I believe it did me good. This took place at a meeting of several mates, who are incidentally dental professionals, but it's not pertinent. The assembled group were solely men, which is significant.

An Unfamiliar Predicament

The venue was a pub/restaurant enjoying a roaring trade. A wasted daytime was had by all. Fine food, nice libations and unexpectedly entertaining tales about oral health. As expected, the time came for trips to the men's room. Those who went, I partially registered, looked to be away a long time. I didn't ponder why this was, but when it became my turn, all became clear.

Upon turning the bend, and what did I discover but a lengthy line for the gentlemen’s toilet. An empty space for the female facilities, but a considerable queue for the men's. What bizarre turn was this? This wasn’t a world any of us in this gathering knew.

A Sample of the Norm

To be perfectly clear, I am not asking for sympathy from any lady here. I am acutely cognizant that, for women, needing to line up to use a restroom is the norm. Repeatedly have I seen women waiting in a row while men in the same establishment have to do the opposite?

Apart from the inconvenience of standing in line to use a facility, there’s a hint of embarrassment about lingering there, awaiting something that men usually don’t have to experience. It was truly enlightening to have a sample of it myself, seeing the opposite gender breeze through the door while I was forced to line up dutifully in line with my mates, looking distractedly at anything we had in our trouser pockets and consulting our handsets.

The Genre of Restroom Line Banter

There’s a entire style of dialogue here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have scant experience. Women, I presume, have become adept to be rather good at it, engaging in pleasantries and an interesting insight or two.

About this topic I’ve asked some female friends of my knowledge. The prevailing view is that within-the-line interaction is limited to the rare eye roll and the phrase: “Forget this, I’m going to use the male.” A associate informed me it’s merely at the washbasins afterwards that chat tends to start up.

Had I been a lady, I’d refrain from on both niceties or silence. If I was obliged, repeatedly, to stand in a common queue simply for the privilege to relieve myself, I’d express my fury like there was no tomorrow at the pure unfairness of it. A useful measure for any modern culture would be equal waiting times in urination waiting times. I’m researching research on this.

Male Interaction in the Queue

Returning to my queue, I endeavoured to spark some male camaraderie flowing about this unprecedented situation of ours. I sighed a bit, rolled my eyes and uttered something along the lines of: “Well, this makes an irksome change, doesn’t it boys?”

Someone smiled, a second seemed nonplussed, a third appeared embarrassed. A further person shook his head as if this was one more manifestation of a failing society, cultural decline etc. Otherwise, silence ensued. Someone emerged, zipping up. The group shuffled up a place. A couple more men took a place at the end of it. I let out a breath.

An Unspoken Moment

A woman wafted out of the next-door facility, all fresh and relaxed. It was just fine for some. I grinned apologetically at her, endeavouring to express acknowledgement of this topsy-turvy scenario. Her response was: “Don't come to me for sympathy, you blighter. Come back when you’ve experienced this another hundred times and only then I may give you the courtesy.”

Truthfully, she did not utter that. She uttered nothing. But I know that’s what she was thinking. And I honestly could not fault her.