No man is a hero in the ladies' room. That is a given. Even in a nicer class of restaurant loo, with real soap and hand towels, terse summaries of tonight's date's character are shared there with an expressive eye roll while lipstick is topped up to renew the fray.
Cynicism is how we tend to bond away from the male gaze, so I was not surprised at a report that former Australian prime minister Julia Gillard, has disclosed that the few women at G20 meetings in her day, "all had some complaints over the washbasin" when they got together.
Read more: Rosemary McLeod: Body image anxiety taking over
Rosemary McLeod: Jobs for poor in Thiel's world
Rosemary McLeod: Glamour holds something back
Of course, they did, and I wish she had enumerated them. Did they laugh about Putin's pin-up poses, bare-chested on horseback like a mini-me Dothraki in Game of Thrones, following the Mother of Dragons? Would they cackle about the amount of hair product Donald Trump uses, and shake their heads over the tribulations of Teresa May? It would be unnatural if they didn't. As for Gillard, surely no woman was ever so reviled for her audacity in having red hair and a rich Aussie accent, both at once.
Bonding sessions are held at the workplace washbasin, too. In one job, where my boss was prone to a domineering variety of sexual harassment, I used to retreat to the loo to chorus, I Enjoy Being a Girl and The Girl That I Marry with a friend enduring the same tribulations. The loo was a place of respite, though the boss was not above hammering loudly on the door.