I find quite a satisfaction when exploring and understanding differences and luckily so, since we’re knee deep in diversity and neither the planet nor consumerism are showing signs of letting up.
You could probably add being a native white oke from Africa to that luckily so list.
My favourite differences are the obvious ones, I don’t give a shit about a frog’s extra toe or what sand from Patagonia looks like under a microscope. The everyday stuff, when turned slightly on its side, gives me far more joy than discovering the truly new.
This specific incident of wonder happened while I was sitting at Chilli Bar in Southfield, waiting to go on stage and sitting very near the bathrooms, I couldn’t help but notice how often women go to the bathroom together. Not just that women were doing it, because that would be tediously hack, but rather, the ramifications of doing so for an extended period of time. I started wondering about the pay off and if they might be onto something. My interest then turned into concern.
On average, if you added up all that extra conversation that happens on these little excursions, women talk at least 45 minutes longer on any normal social excursion. My maths is a little tricksy and I’m not interested in accuracy enough to attempt figuring out the actual figures, but we’re talking a sizeable chunk. The quality of conversation is the clincher here, I see them as little sessions of brutal honesty- where all is told, very similar to little Catholic confessional sessions, but with less sodomy.
People are quick to point out developmental differences between the sexes and I think spending half the evening locked in solid, unmonitored conversation while watching someone pee has to have some effect. We are, after all, talking about a fundamental behavioural difference here.
Men seldom engage in this activity, perhaps accidentally more than intentionally, and you’ll never hear men getting stoked about synchronized bladders either, but women actually exhibit affection for this activity of visiting the loo together. Suspicious.
There must be a kick back they’re not letting us in on, outside of the miracle of childbirth and being a little prickly for four days a month- now they have this too. Something needs to be done, we need reconnaissance, intel, something is afoot and they’re keeping it a secret.
Can you imagine, very soon there will be catering, we’ll be missing out on entire chunks of an evening. The generations to come will continue running with this tradition, evolve and sculpt it until some hybrid small talk urine fetish becomes the chosen pastime for women in nightclubs and restaurants across the world.
We’re in danger of losing the bar as a social focal point, no longer will people gather around bars to talk openly and honestly, no, we need to know what goes on in those prefab cubicles and out do them at the bars. The balance of power will shift if we don’t watch out.
All I’m saying is that I’m onto you ladies, I know you’re up to something and don’t think you’ll get away with it just because I have no clue what it is.
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