Beyond Glad That I Don’t Work Here

I’m waiting for my wife outside the toilets at a park. The queue for the ladies is quite long and people are getting agitated.

Some random guy asks me if the corridor behind me is for the toilets and I answer, so then some woman in the line somehow takes me for staff. I am not wearing anything like staff clothes.

Woman: “How come he can go in and we have to wait?”

Me: “What?”

Woman: “How come all the men are allowed to go through and we have to wait?”

I realise that she is probably stressed and not thinking straight; it is stupidly hot and it really is bad that there are such few facilities around. I manage to reply:

Me: “Can you even hear yourself? The men are going to the men’s toilet.”

I point to the big signpost right behind me. She seems to stew this one over for a while, and then:

Woman: “Right! That’s it. I’m not waiting anymore. This is just discrimination! Why do we have to wait?!”

I decide not to say anything. I don’t think it is right, but I still don’t want to get into a shouting match. I’m also not going to warn her that the men’s toilets are disgusting. The few cubicles that seem to work look like they have been used solely by barn animals.

She disappears only to reappear moments later.

Woman: “You need to clean those toilets up; they are disgusting.”

My wife finally emerges.

Wife: “You all right, babe?”

Me: “Yeah, fine. Shall we get something to eat?”

Woman: “What? No! Clean those toilets!”

Wife: “Who is she?”

Me: “No idea. Let’s go.”

We left her looking utterly lost, and thankfully, I didn’t see her again.