The Bathroom Rant

I know, I know. You've heard it before - the bathroom rant - but a poorly designed restroom I do not understand. A sink like this is very pretty but I fail to see how it is practical. It does a good job of wetting the side of the bowl (again, very pretty) but doesn't wet my hands past my fingertips. Maybe I'm missing something. Are we only supposed to wash our fingertips? If so, what is the rest of the bowl for?

Drying one's hands, says Dyson. They built the hand dryer right into a faucet - the Airblade Tap Hand Dryer (which you can purchase from Restroom Direct). It looks a little bit like a motorcycle handlebar mounted over a sink. OK, it doesn't look anything like a motorcycle handlebar but I can't think of any other way to describe it.

One of the things that drives me crazy about restroom design is that someone, somewhere, decided to change things up. I understand wanting to make things more efficient or more sanitary. What I don't understand is going into a restroom and not being able to perform the functions the room was designed for, namely flushing my bodily wastes and washing and drying my hands.

I'm sorry. Was that too much information? I should have warned your earlier.

My bad.

I haven't met a toilet that I couldn't figure out how to flush, eventually, but I have been stymied by sinks and dryers. You know the drill: waving, dancing, surreptitiously looking for the magic eye or handle to make a thing work, hoping no one else is looking, only to find out it was manual in the first place. You hope the soap will dispense, the water will flow, and, dripping, you will be able to blow or wipe your hands dry on something other than your clothing, all the while timing when you can reasonably give up and leave the restroom while still looking somewhat cool.

This one particular time, I came out of a bathroom stall and was confronted by a handlebar apparatus in the sink that made me think of a motorcycle handlebar - the Dyson Airblade Tap Hand Dryer. Luckily, another woman was working the device so I was able to proceed as if I was an expert. I washed my hands under the stem of the handlebar and later moved my hands out to the handles to dry them.

Brava! No dripping on the floor from sink to towel!

I walked out of the ladies room like I know what I was doing, cool as a cucumber, and just after I rejoined my husband at our table, he leaned over and whispered into my ear, "You forgot to zip your fly."