A Truly Revelatory Incident in the Bar Lavatory Queue
In the run-up to Christmas, I encountered an extraordinary situation. I feel it was beneficial for me. This happened at a gathering of several mates, who are incidentally dental professionals, but that’s not important. The present group were solely men, which proves to be relevant.
A Novel Scenario
The venue was a bar and eatery experiencing a excellent custom. A lost session was had by all. Good cuisine, fine libations and remarkably humorous stories about teeth. As expected, the point dawned for visits to the men's room. Those who ventured off, 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 turn, the mystery was solved.
Upon turning the bend, and what awaited me but a long queue for the men's restroom. An empty space 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 queue were accustomed to.
A Taste of Everyday Life
To be perfectly clear, I do not seek or anticipate pity from any lady here. I am obviously conscious that, for women, needing to line up to use a convenience is standard practice. On countless occasions have I witnessed women waiting in a queue while men in the identical venue have to do the opposite?
In addition to the inconvenience of having to queue to use a toilet, there’s a whiff of humiliation about standing there, anticipating something that men generally don’t have to experience. It was profoundly bracing to have a sample of it myself, observing the other sex breeze through the door while I was obliged to wait patiently with others with my fellow fellas, angling away at anything we had in our pockets and scrolling through our mobile devices.
The Practice of Toilet Queue Banter
There’s a whole form of small talk here – lavatory line banter – of which men have minimal familiarity. Ladies, I presume, have become adept to be quite proficient at it, sharing polite remarks and an notable observation or two.
About this topic I’ve asked some lady acquaintances of my knowledge. The consensus is that queue-based dialogue is restricted to the odd eye roll and the phrase: “Screw this, I’m going to use the male.” A workmate mentioned it’s exclusively at the sinks subsequently that chat tends to break out.
Had I been a lady, I’d refrain from on either small talk or reticence. If I was obliged, time and again, to wait in a common queue only for the privilege to relieve myself, I’d express my fury like crazy at the utter injustice of it. A valuable measure for any advanced society would be balanced access in urination waiting times. I’m seeking out data on this.
Comradely Chat in the Procession
During my time in my line, I tried to initiate some brotherly banter flowing about this novel state of affairs of ours. I sighed a bit, showed exasperation and uttered something along the lines of: “Ah, this represents an disagreeable change, doesn’t it lads?”
A fellow chuckled, another seemed nonplussed, a third individual looked sheepish. Another gave a dismissive wave as if this was a further example of a failing society, cultural decline etc. Otherwise, silence reigned. An individual came out, zipping up. The line advanced a position. Another two men took a place at the back of it. I let out a breath.
An Unspoken Moment
A woman wafted out of the next-door toilet, all fresh and unhurried. It was all right for some. I beamed apologetically at her, attempting to convey acknowledgement of this upside-down situation. She remarked: “Don't turn to me for sympathy, you jerk. Return when you’ve endured this on a regular basis and then I may give you the courtesy.”
Truthfully, she never spoke that. She didn’t say anything. But I know that’s what she was feeling. And I honestly wouldn’t blame her.
