A Truly Eye-Opening Experience in the Bar Restroom Line

Just before Christmas, I encountered an remarkable episode. I believe it proved instructive. This occurred at a meeting of a group of longtime companions, who are incidentally dentists, but this isn't pertinent. The assembled party were solely men, which proves to be significant.

A Novel Scenario

The venue was a bar and eatery doing a roaring trade. A lost afternoon was shared by the group. Good food, good libations and remarkably humorous stories about dentistry. Naturally, the point dawned for trips to the gents. Those who departed, I half-noticed, seemed to be gone a considerable while. I didn’t dwell on the reason this could be, but when it came to my go, the mystery was solved.

Upon turning the bend, and what awaited me but a sizeable procession for the men's restroom. Not a single person waiting for the women’s toilet, but a substantial line for the men’s. What strange new world was this? This was an unfamiliar scene any of us in this queue knew.

A Taste of Everyday Life

For the avoidance of doubt, I am not asking for empathy from any female reader here. I am acutely cognizant that, for ladies, being forced to wait to use a restroom is an everyday occurrence. How many times have I seen women waiting in a row while men in the same establishment have to do nothing of the sort?

Apart from the inconvenience of having to queue to use a convenience, there’s a whiff of indignity about lingering there, anticipating something that men generally don’t have to wait for. It was truly enlightening to experience a dose of it myself, watching the women breeze through the portal while I was obliged to line up dutifully with others with my companions, angling away at whatever we had in our trouser pockets and consulting our handsets.

The Art of Toilet Queue Conversation

There’s a complete style of dialogue here – restroom waiting talk – of which men have minimal experience. Females, I surmise, have become adept to be rather good at it, sharing pleasantries and an notable comment or two.

On this I’ve polled some women of my circle. The consensus is that within-the-line dialogue is limited to the occasional eye roll and the utterance: “Forget this, I’m going to use the men’s.” A associate told me it’s only at the washbasins later that discussion tends to begin.

Had I been a woman, I’d refrain from on both pleasantries or silence. If I was compelled, time and again, to queue in a common queue merely for the chance to empty my bladder, I’d rant angrily like there was no tomorrow at the sheer unfairness of it. A handy measure for any civilised culture would be gender parity in toilet waiting times. I’m researching data on this.

Male Chat in the Queue

Back in my line, I endeavoured to initiate some male camaraderie started about this new situation of ours. I tutted a bit, rolled my eyes and said something like: “Ah, this is an irksome variation, doesn’t it lads?”

One person chuckled, someone else seemed nonplussed, a other man appeared embarrassed. Another rolled his eyes as if this was a further manifestation of modern woes, political correctness etc. Aside from that, quiet reigned. A man exited, zipping up. The line moved forward a place. A couple more men took a place at the end of it. I let out a breath.

A Silent Interaction

A female glided out of the adjacent toilet, all fragrant and relaxed. It was all right for some. I beamed bashfully at her, endeavouring to convey an understanding of this upside-down situation. Her response was: “Don't turn to me for sympathy, you bastard. Return when you’ve experienced this another hundred times and then I could give you the time of day.”

Actually, she never spoke that. She said nothing. But I am convinced that’s what she was implying. And I truly wouldn’t censure her.