Guess the Narcissist Behind the Toilet Door

Article by Peter Brooker

You know the type. You’re on a business-class flight, there are only twenty minutes until landing, and some absolute twat has decided that this is the perfect moment to occupy the toilet for longer than five minutes, despite knowing full well there’s a queue of people waiting outside.

I was sitting there thinking, Who is this narcissist? Who genuinely believes that their time is so much more valuable than everybody else’s? I turned to the woman sitting next to me and said, “Go on, guess the narcissist behind the door.”

And it’s not just on planes. When I went to Greece, we had a bus leaving in five minutes. It was going to be a three-hour journey, and there were no toilets on the bus. Naturally, everyone needed to get themselves sorted before we left. But there was one person who decided to spend twenty effing minutes in the toilet.

Twenty minutes! With a bus about to leave and a three-hour journey ahead of us!

So I turned to Anastasia and said, “I reckon it’s a bloke in there. Definitely a bloke. And I bet he’s got a lot of hair.”

Because, in my experience, the blokes with loads of hair are often the worst offenders. They’re forever checking themselves in the mirror, making sure every strand is in place. Bald blokes don’t have quite so much to faff about with, do they? Less hair, less time in front of the mirror. Trust me.

I said, “This bloke’s got confidence. He’s got an attitude. He thinks the world revolves around him, and I guarantee he’s got a bloody man bun.”

And sure enough, the toilet door finally opened, and out he sauntered: a bloke with a man bun.

He walked out as though he hadn’t just held up an entire queue of people, completely oblivious to the inconvenience he’d caused. The sort of bloke who walks around as if his shit doesn’t stink — despite having spent the last twenty minutes in a toilet!

Anastasia turned to me and said, “How on earth did you know that? You must have seen him go in!”

I said, “No! When we arrived at the bus depot, this arsehole was already in the crapper. I just knew!”

And that’s the thing. Whether it’s a business-class flight or a bus station in Greece, there’s always someone who seems to think the normal rules of consideration don’t apply to them.

For God's sake, people! A public toilet isn't your personal bathroom. There are other people waiting. There are flights about to land, buses about to leave, and passengers who might desperately need to go before being trapped on a coach for three hours.

So, to all you toilet narcissists out there: sort yourselves out! Do what you need to do, wash your hands, check your bloody man bun if you absolutely must, and get out.

We need to get this sorted! And I think I've finally come up with the answer to the problem of toilet narcissists who think they own the bloody place.

My proposal is simple: every aircraft toilet should have a three-minute timer.

Here's how it works. The moment the cabin crew announces that we're forty minutes from landing, the countdown begins. Now, we all know that the toilets are going to be locked for the final twenty minutes of the flight, when everyone has to be strapped into their seats. That leaves twenty minutes for the entire cabin to get themselves sorted.

So why should one inconsiderate bastard be allowed to hog the toilet for fifteen or twenty minutes while everybody else waits, desperately crossing their legs and wondering whether they're going to make it?

No! I propose a strict three-minute rule.

You go in, you do your business, you wash your hands, and you get out. Three minutes. That's your allowance. And when the timer reaches zero, the door automatically opens. No arguing, no negotiating, no pretending you haven't heard the alarm. The timer has spoken, and you have absolutely no say in the matter.

And let's be honest, if you're in there attempting to produce something resembling the Beast from the East, perhaps you need to exercise a little judgement. Get the essentials done, leave the rest for the airport toilets, and stop holding up an entire aircraft!

Think about it. Twenty minutes of available toilet time before the final lockdown, with a three-minute limit per person. People get their turn, the queue keeps moving, and nobody gets to treat a public toilet like their own private en-suite bathroom.

It's not about rushing people for the sake of it. It's about basic considerations. You're sharing a confined space with hundreds of other people, and the world doesn't revolve around your bowel movements.

So there we have it: the Three-Minute Toilet Timer. A simple solution to a problem that has plagued humanity for far too long.

I put this motion to the House! All those in favour, say aye.

And all those currently occupying an aircraft toilet while reading this on their phone — your time starts now!

Photo by Alev Takil on Unsplash