Carnivorous Cow

The Cow was grumpy that her return coincided with a snap of cold weather, and the start of the second semester, resulting in interminable queues for the strained ablution facilities.

Gramsci, on the other hand, struggled to see what all the fuss was about.

"Gmf!" muttered the Cow. "That's Reason 1 why men's toilets are better than women's! There's hardly ever a queue for the men's!"

Gramsci admitted that this was consistent with his experience, but was curious about the other reasons.

"Well," began the Cow. "Reason 2 is that there are seldom children in the men's. And if there are, it's usually a no-fuss, business-like activity with minimum pain all round.

"Reason 3 is that - unless one is at a certain gay club in Green Point - men's toilets don't have a phalanx of make-up touchers-up crowding the mirrors and - in the process - blocking access to the wash-basins. Or the hand-towels. Or the exit door.

"Reason 4 is that fewer than half of the toilets in the men's are likely to be blocked by acres of rainforest, in the form of tissues, failing in their attempt at being flushed. Or whatever else it is that women, or their accompanying children, try unsuccessfully to flush, backing up the entire plumbing system."

Gramsci really didn't want to know. He was already terrified that the Cow might mention the presence, in the women's, of those euphemistically named "feminine hygeine" bins which festered in the corners of the cubicles. While their purpose remained opaque to him, he suspected that it was related to the Kotex industry's equivalent of the nuclear waste disposal problem, and was terrified that he might be correct.

But the Cow steamrollered on. "Reason 5," she continued, "is probably the most compelling of all. In the men's, you're far, far less likely to have to endure subjection to a teary, blow-by-blow cellphone conversation - or half of it - of some hysterical female recounting her break-up with her boyfriend to her best friend."

Gramsci had to admit that this, too, was true. Men's conversations post-break-up with their best friends tended to be beery, rather than teary, and men's toilets weren't the best venue for beer in its undigested form.