Are you sitting comfortably? Probably not if you are in a club toilet seeing as they have all decided that the seats must go, leaving way to a rather bare sorry looking toilet bowl. Of course we all know why, the unhinging and confiscating of any flat surface within a mile of a locking door has become an important part the campaign against drugs in clubs (and yes they go so well together they rhyme, what a lost cause). What they seem to have forgotten though is that toilets are actually used for another not so fun but equally essential activity. It’s rather taboo I know but the bottom (ha ha) line is that drugs and clubs do go together and whether you smoke, snort or swallow the poison of your choice, it makes your bowels move long before the earth does. There I’ve said it – people do crap in clubs, it does happen and rather more often than we would like to admit. So the lack of comfortable seating is just not right. There are of course many other activities specific to WCs, although it has been a while since I’ve seen anyone attempt anything vaguely resembling sex in the confines of a cubicle. Anyone who’s tried it will know that it’s an activity that requires flexibility, stamina and for once, speed. It’s not easy to concentrate when you’ve got people pounding on the door who just will no be ignored. A toilet guard, or what the French call a Dame Pipi (literally a wee wee lady) makes sure that nothing too un-ruley goes on in her (or his) domain. They always have a basket for tips so perhaps this is so they will turn a blind eye? Loo ladies are often trashy trannies, perhaps this is the club transvestite social ladder- start at the loo and work your way up to serving the rich and famous in the VIP area? Or are they bankers during the day and merely fulfilling some sort of water closet fantasy? Who knows, but the more extravagant and laid back the loo lady, the more you can get away with. I remember many years ago at Queen the mixed toilets became what the kitchen usually is at a house party- the social hub. You would come to Lady Lu to stock up on rubbers and why not give them a test drive while you wait. No one even bothered closing the doors. Concerned for my moral wellbeing the lovely Lu put her hands over my eyes when I inadvertently walked in. I decided that perhaps my bladder could wait. One loo lady has taken the job to another level, Yvette, better known as Dame Pipi, even has a website with the same name. It all started at the Pulp (RIP) when she turned her toilet arena into a gallery. Taking shots of clubbers as they came in and sticking them on the wall she turned this rather un-gratifying job into a trademark! The other activity unquestionably more common in the Ladies, is preening. This is the girl’s domain where they hang out, chat about girlie stuff, (yes yes hair, shoes and makeup and ..men) hoist up their tights and bras, reapply their lippy and readjust their hair. It’s done in pairs and at regular intervals. Why in pairs? Moral support, it’s also the moment to re-asses the evening’s events in a moment of privacy without having to shout. There was one mirror check moment that I will never forget after a rather prolonged Saturday night, I went to the bathroom in a café and while I was washing my hands I did the usual mirror check to see if everything was in place (and check if my eyes looked acceptable) and oh my god the shock when the reflection staring back at me was a man with a full beard. What happened? Had I grown facial hair over-night, why hadn’t my friends said anything? Of course it was real live man on the other-side of the mirror and the sinks in the Men’s and Ladies WC were cleverly facing each other with a mirror shaped hole in the wall. Scary moment. Some of the chicer venues provide dressing room mirrors and preening space but I’ve always noticed that the classier the toilets the more disgusting they become throughout the night. Why? Honestly boys if you knew that those sexy and glamorous models you were ogling earlier actually seem to lose any notion of toilet training that their mothers (hopefully) taught them once they’ve downed a few Manhattans and snorted a couple of lines. It’s shocking. They don’t seem to have any problem wading through rather suspect looking water in their Jimmy Choos, dragging strips of toilet paper with them as they leave. And what’s with using a whole industrial sized roll and stuffing it down the bog? I just don’t get it. By closing time even Glastonbury porta-loos look more inviting. To conclude, whatever you choose to do in a club loo, do it quickly, leave it how you would like to find it and always have a couple of euros in your pocket so you can go back in peace. Show me your shoes