When you go to a public bathroom the last thing you want to see is a queue. Why would anyone want to spend more time in a room, crammed full of germs, than is absolutely necessary. You wouldn’t, and so, a queue is not an ideal thing to be greeted with when you enter the ladies room. This particular evening, I was in a long queue in this very busy bar. We were in an Irish bar, Fiddlers Green, in Surfer’s Paradise on the Gold Coast, Australia. We’d chosen to go there to watch an important game of rugby that was being played in Europe and so allowing for the time difference, this meant that the game was being shown on the television at 1am in Australia. Fiddlers Green bar was showing the game in amongst the live music they had being performed by an Irish Folk band and the dancing. So, not only was I faced with a queue when I entered the bathroom, a small and very hot room, I was also faced with some extreme odours. The people in the bathroom queue were all perspiring at various rates due to either the hot bathroom, or their exuberant Irish Jig type dancing on the dancefloor and the smell of sweat was mingling with regular toilet odours. Excellent, a hot and sweaty bathroom with a hot and sweaty queue.
Nearing the start of the queue when thankfully it would soon be my turn, I began to keep an eye on the doors of the five stalls, as you do, so as not to miss a vacant one, let anyone nip in before you and begin to get a gage on which one would be available soon. I watched on as two females went in to a stall together. There was only one girl in front of me and so I was nearly there. The said girl in front of me, apparently couldn’t wait much longer, and soon began banging on the doors of the cubicles and urging those inside to hurry up. Unsure of how her banging on the doors would make any difference to the speed of one’s ablutions, I watched her until there came a very angry reply from inside a cubicle.
‘Stop fucking banging you cunt, I’m going as quick as I can.’
The girl continued to bang on the door, finding this funny and enjoying the reaction she was getting from her group friends who were gathered at the mirrors.
‘I mean it, stop banging or I’ll bang your face!’ (A tad unnecessary for sure.)
The angry and somewhat slurred replies to the banging were coming from the cubicle where I’d watched the two women go into and admittedly they were taking their time but all this shouting was only causing more perspiration surely, what was the point? As I had pre – predicted would happen, the girl who’d been doing the banging got into another cubicle before the two angry responders were finished and here I was, at the front of the queue now, looking responsible for the banging – the source of their anger.
‘Who the fuck was making all that noise?’ One of the double act, stood at their cubicle door, was demanding to know who was responsible for the banging. She had the demeanour and glare of a woman that you didn’t want to be on the wrong side of so immediately I put up my hands in what I hoped was a ‘not guilty’ gesture and informed her it wasn’t me. I just wanted to get out of the smelly, sweaty bathroom in one piece and get back to enjoying my evening. The woman continued to glare at the rest of the queue who all averted their eyes, not wishing to make eye contact with this fellow enraged toilet user. The other half of the duo urged her companion to leave it and forget about it and I noticed that the group of girls who had previously been titivating their make-up had slunk out of the bathroom, leaving their banging friend alone.
‘For fuck sake, I can’t even piss in peace!’ The woman, becoming increasingly angrier, shouted and headed for the door (and didn’t wash her hands I might add) and kicked over the bin, full of paper hand towels, in one final angry gesture before leaving the bathroom. I eventually headed into the empty cubicle, when the anger left the bathroom, and noted that the girl who’d caused it all was still in her cubicle, presumably hiding!