Right! That's it! I have had it with automation! Having had my fill of being offered options by computers on telephone lines when all I want is to get on with speaking to a real person - and being forced to listen to endless assurances that my call is important to the organisation - I am resorting to the megaphone! Like the recent Fish Fight campaign in the UK I am going to start a 'Get Rid of Automated Hand-washers' campaign!
Here's why. I went into the men's toilet at Bordeaux Harbour in Guernsey yesterday on a bright but very cold day. Wanting to wash my hands - as you do - (cough cough gentlemen) I went to use the hole-in-the-wall hand washer/dryer which should be re-named 'the East Coast Hand Freezing Soap Chucker' machine! I held my hands out into the hole, waiting like a monk at prayer, only to have soap spurted back at my wrists and up my coat front! Realising I only had seconds to react and not being the swearing type anyway I rubbed in the tiny remnant quickly and was then drenched from collar to belt by a high-pressure offering of freezing cold water that just wouldn't stop and seemed to have lost all sense of direction! I yelled in pain and anger which seemed to make the flow relent, and I pondered what I would look like when I stagger out of the door wet all down my front - fellers you know what I mean.
At this point my hands were like two blocks of cold pork being held out for the butcher to chop while I waited longingly for the hot air dryer to kick in. When it did I nearly kicked it in because the blast it gave me was straight from the freezing tundra in Siberia. I rubbed the offending pork chops under the frigid blast in the vain hope that they might thaw but no such luck. The icy blast seemed only to have lasted about 2.4 seconds longer than my scream. Sad as it might seem, all I could think was that I must have been the only customer for a while and so it needed to heat up, so foolishly I kept dangling my pork chop hands in the hole for a few more seconds hoping to get another serving of dryer. What I got, of course, was a savage squirt of soap over my wrists and down my front! Searching in vain for a paper towel or handkerchief I headed for the door just in time to see that the hole in the wall had changed shape from being round to a kind of extended grin! Grrrrr!!
BRING BACK PAPER TOWELS!