Excursis: Automatic Paper Towel Dispensers

Yesterday, I stopped at my local upscale supermarket because their milk is actually cheaper than my local less than upscale supermarket. As part of the experience, I arrived at the bathroom sink station for the 13,0002nd time to wash my hands. I squirted soap onto my hands (this itself is a luxury not afforded me everywhere), placed my hands under the sensor in the sink which distributes water at a temperature which is precisely calculated, I am sure, to a fine balance between cleansing of bacteria and cost of heating/transporting the water, and advanced to the automated towel dispensing unit. For the 13,002nd time, I got one allocated length of towel, which was not enough to dry my hands. So, for the 13,002nd, time, I waved my damp hands under the sensor and was issued another unit. Voila, dry hands.

I am certain, with certainty of a man that counts pennies, that the precise amount of towel has been carefully calculated by accountants and engineers deep in a hidden bunker for the precise amount of towel required to dry someone’s hands – that is, if you have the hand size of a six year old. For anyone with normal sized hands it’s not enough, leading me to requisition another towel with the wave of a hand, thereby circumventing the very reason the allocated towel amount was created in the first place.

It’s maddening. Here I sit, with dripping hands as the towel dispenser silently mocks me in the bathroom and the Demi-Gods of Towel Dispensing (and their Overlords, The Gods of the Automated Bathroom and the Bottom Line) mock me from on high, crying out “Foolish mortal! Thou needest not two towels to dryeth thy hand. Be content with one. We have carefully considered the type and amount of hand drying, and if thou canst not use one towel, there is something wrong with thee!”

Nothing will change of course, except perhaps the towels will get smaller. But I will be there, one man in a bathroom with his fist clenched high, shouting “From Hell’s heart I spit at thee, O thou Demi-Gods of Towel Dispensing (and thine Overlords, The Gods of the Automated Bathroom and the Bottom Line)! Behold! I reach out mine hand and causeth thy servant to dispense not one but two towels to mine own hand which I will useth and then callously casteth in the refuse. I am the Master of my Bathroom Destiny!”

Right up to the point the Automated Door will not letteth me out…