Men of Edinburgh! I have been into your 'Gents' and you really need to demand better facilities – Susan Morrison
There are young women out there who can drink pints. Not me. Weak bladder, y’see. Couldn’t sink a pint without eyeballing the nearest ladies toilet.
Since the kids arrived, I enter every new environment like a US president's bodyguard. That room is scoped until I have every loo clocked, every route to lav mapped. It's almost a superpower. Most mums have it.
Last week by the Shore, a glass of wine in the sun, mask off, and a good natter with a friend. Heavenly.
We had much in the world to be put to rights. And I will admit to a glass or two of very good Chardonnay. The chat was so great that I ignored the early warning signals from my bladder, but eventually gave in. Knew the route – used to drink there back in the 80s.
Time to pop to the loo. I walked in from the dazzling sunshine. The bar was dark and cool, and I had put my mask on. My glasses immediately steamed up.
Blinded by the light and fogged by my breath I forged forward. The loos were where I’d left them years ago. It was dark, but I knew my way.
The fog cleared on my specs.
The seat was up. Odd, thought, absently. Minor point. Anyway, the bladder was on override mode.
“Why is there a trough in here?” I thought, less absently and slightly more anxiously when I came out, relieved. Perhaps it’s one of those designer basins? Where are the mirrors, nice handwash and… wait, hold on.
Yes. I realised I had accidentally invaded a foreign land – I was in the gents.
What an education. Jeez, lads, life in the loo doesn’t have to be like this. Demand better lights, nicer soap. A mirror. Where do you guys go for a blether on a night out?
Naturally I shot out and straight into the ladies, where I found scented soap, mirrors and nicer lighting. I’m blaming the steamed up specs, the dim, cool interior and the fact that the pub clearly changed the layout since 1987. The cheek.