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Just before the holidays, I experienced an extraordinary situation. I believe it was beneficial for me. This took place at a get-together of some old friends, who are incidentally dental professionals, but this isn't important. The assembled party were exclusively male, which turns out to be key.

A Novel Situation

The establishment was a bar and eatery doing a brisk business. A forgotten daytime was had by all. Fine food, fine libations and surprisingly entertaining anecdotes about teeth. Inevitably, the moment came for excursions to the gents. Those who went, I half-noticed, looked to be away a significant period. I didn't ponder why this might have been, but when it was my go, all became clear.

I turned the corner, and what awaited me but a sizeable procession for the gentlemen’s toilet. No queue at all for the ladies' room, but a considerable queue for the gents'. 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 neither court nor expect pity from any lady here. I am obviously conscious that, for females, needing to line up to use a public toilet is an everyday occurrence. Repeatedly have I observed women queuing in a line while men in the same establishment have to do the opposite?

Beyond the inconvenience of standing in line to use a toilet, there’s a whiff of embarrassment about waiting there, waiting for something that men typically don’t have to endure. It was profoundly enlightening to experience a dose of it myself, seeing the opposite gender walk straight through the portal while I was forced to stand solemnly in line with my fellow fellas, angling away at whatever we had in our jackets and scrolling through our phones.

The Practice of Toilet Queue Chitchat

There’s a entire conversational genre here – toilet queue chitchat – of which men have scant familiarity. Females, I surmise, have become adept to be rather good at it, engaging in polite remarks and an interesting observation or two.

On this I’ve consulted some lady acquaintances of my circle. The prevailing view is that intra-queue interaction is confined to the rare weary glance and the phrase: “Forget this, I’m going to use the men’s.” A associate told me it’s only at the sinks afterwards that conversation tends to begin.

Had I been a lady, I’d waste no time on both niceties or quiet. If I was obliged, over and over, to stand in a common queue only for the privilege to use the toilet, I’d rant angrily like there was no tomorrow at the pure unfairness of it. A handy metric for any advanced culture would be gender parity in urination lining-up periods. I’m looking for data on this.

Male Interaction in the Procession

During my time in my queue, I attempted to spark some male camaraderie started about this novel circumstance of ours. I tutted a bit, rolled my eyes and said something along the lines of: “Ah, this represents an unpleasant change, doesn’t it chaps?”

One person chuckled, a second looked blank, a other man looked sheepish. Yet another rolled his eyes as if this was one more symptom of broken Britain, cultural decline etc. Aside from that, silence prevailed. Someone came out, fastening his trousers. The queue moved forward a position. Two more men entered the back of it. I exhaled.

A Knowing Exchange

A female emerged out of the adjacent toilet, all fresh and at ease. It was perfectly okay for some. I beamed apologetically at her, attempting to express an understanding of this topsy-turvy situation. Her response was: “Don't turn to me for sympathy, you jerk. Reappear when you’ve experienced this another hundred times and at that point I could give you the time of day.”

In reality, she didn’t say that. She said a word. But I know that’s what she was implying. And I truly wouldn’t blame her.