At some point along the course of human evolution we developed an aversion to touching things. I am not sure when that might have happened, maybe the plague? Maybe the Spanish Inquisition?
Either way, our desire to not touch things has at this point reached the point of being out of control.
That little black square mocks me. It’s evil and it mocks me. When I want to wash my hands and I can’t get the sink to see me, it is among the most annoying things in the history of the universe. Not to mention the fact that I can’t make the water hotter or colder. And stay on for a second. We all can’t keep our hands right there in the sweet spot of the faucet for the whole time.
Automatic soap dispensers are what really irk me. Seriously. Let me push the thing down and get the soap my self. I will risk the germs.
To a degree I understand that paper towels are wasteful, and I am willing to use the air driers. I wish they were all Dyson Airblades. Hell I wish I had a full size one for after the shower. But the tepid, not as strong as a six-year-old blowing out candles shenanigans in most restrooms will not cut it!
Restroom designers, END THIS MADNESS! And while you’re at it, make it so all bathroom doors open out so I can push the door with my foot.