A Genuinely Eye-Opening Encounter in the Pub Lavatory Procession

Just before Christmas, I experienced an extraordinary situation. I feel it proved instructive. This took place at a gathering of several mates, who are, as it happens dental professionals, but that’s not relevant. The attending crowd were all blokes, which turns out to be key.

A Novel Situation

The location was a tavern experiencing a brisk business. A lost afternoon was had by all. Nice fare, fine beverages and unexpectedly entertaining tales about dentistry. Inevitably, the time arrived for trips to the male facilities. Those who went, I half-noticed, appeared to be gone a considerable while. I didn't contemplate the reason this was, but when it was my go, the mystery was solved.

Rounding the corner, and what awaited me but a lengthy line for the men's restroom. An empty space for the ladies' room, but a substantial line for the gents'. What strange new world was this? This was an unfamiliar scene any of us in this queue were accustomed to.

A Taste of the Norm

Let me state unequivocally, I am not asking for pity from any woman here. I am acutely conscious that, for ladies, needing to line up to use a restroom is an everyday occurrence. On countless occasions have I witnessed women standing in a row while men in the same establishment have to do nothing of the sort?

Apart from the annoyance of standing in line to use a toilet, there’s a tinge of embarrassment about waiting there, waiting for something that men usually don’t have to experience. It was truly bracing to get a taste of it myself, observing the opposite gender breeze through the door while I was forced to line up dutifully in queue with my companions, angling away at something we had in our jackets and scrolling through our phones.

The Practice of Lavatory Queue Banter

There’s a complete conversational genre here – restroom waiting talk – of which men have minimal knowledge. Females, I presume, have learned to be fairly skilled at it, sharing small talk and an notable observation or two.

Regarding this I’ve asked some female friends of my acquaintance. The consensus is that queue-based communication is restricted to the occasional exasperated look and the utterance: “Screw this, I’m going to use the men’s.” A colleague informed me it’s only at the washbasins afterwards that chat tends to begin.

Were I a woman, I’d refrain from on either niceties or reticence. If I was compelled, over and over, to wait in a shared procession simply for the privilege to use the toilet, I’d express my fury like there was no tomorrow at the sheer injustice of it. A handy metric for any modern community would be balanced access in urination queue durations. I’m looking for data on this.

Male Interaction in the Procession

Returning to my queue, I endeavoured to get some male camaraderie started about this new circumstance of ours. I tutted a bit, rolled my eyes and remarked something like: “So, this makes an irksome difference, right lads?”

One person chuckled, another seemed nonplussed, a third seemed awkward. A further person rolled his eyes as if this was yet another symptom of modern woes, woke madness etc. For the most part, quiet ensued. A man emerged, fastening his trousers. The line advanced a position. A couple more men entered the end of it. I sighed.

A Silent Moment

A lady emerged out of the adjacent restroom, all fragrant and at ease. It was perfectly okay for some. I smiled bashfully at her, trying to communicate recognition of this reversed situation. Her response was: “Don't turn to me for support, you blighter. Return when you’ve done this another hundred times and only then I may give you the time of day.”

In reality, she did not utter that. She uttered nothing. But I believe that’s what she was feeling. And I truly would not fault her.