A Matter of Space.

In spite of my earlier muse on the relative merits of motherhood and fatherhood, it occurs to me that women do have it easier in certain ways, not least the fact that they don’t have to stand in unwholesome proximity to a perfect stranger while urinating in a public toilet.

The public toilets in Ashbourne have three urinals, and every time I go in there some bloke of mildly dubious appearance and manner has taken custody of the middle one. Why not take the end one so that the person who follows will be at maximum distance? I always imagine that such people probably park their cars badly, too.