She walks away, shaking her head and mumbling something about wishing she had married someone else ... anyone else.
But it’s not my fault. Have you noticed lately how you can’t enter a public restroom and find a faucet that isn’t run by some device that turns itself on and off as it pleases?
If manufacturers’ claims are to be believed, it saves a lot of water, maybe as much as 70 percent that would just go down the drain if left to mere humans to control. More importantly, it takes all that pressure out of washing your hands.
I don’t know about you, but I used to lie awake nights consumed with worry about whether I would be able to handle the responsibility of cleansing the Pollak hands and face.
Of course, because all the public bathrooms seem to have hand-dryer gadgets, removing moisture from a washed face is no longer an option. Probably just as well, as there is vicious debate among the cognoscenti about whether hand dryers spread germs.
Stop me if you’ve heard this before, but intense research reveals that truly effective hand washing must entail soaping up and scrubbing for at least the time it takes to sing the “Happy Birthday to You” song twice (about 20 seconds, not counting encores).
Here’s the frightening part: If you’re merely rinsing your hands before submitting them to the blower, chances are your germs will be blasted into the air where they will doubtlessly be up to no good.
As the argument over whether the germ blasting actually occurs rages on, I have to admit that I have been a bit nervous about standing in front of a urinal or toilet while some sort of X-ray or electric eye aimed at my nether regions determines when it’s time to flush.