So it was our first visit to the pediatric dentist since he had moved his practice into a brand new building. Three of my four children were done with their appointments, so I told them to sit tight in the waiting room while I made a quick stop in the restroom.
When I got ready to wash my hands, I looked down at the sink and thought, "Ooo, cool fixture!" The faucet was a gleaming arc of silver, and the single curved handle swung out and upward from the right side of the base. Now, all the plumbing fixtures in my house are 1970's mobile home rejects and are installed so that the one labeled "H" gives you cold water, and vice versa. I wasn't sure how to work this solitary handle, but it seemed logical to just pull it toward me.
Well. Expecting a nice flow of warm water, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I got a blast of hot air at my left elbow from the wall-mounted hand dryer instead. My first thought was, "Holy cats. This building has some serious wiring problems." Then I began to worry about what was happening in the exam room on the other side of the bathroom wall. I mean, wiring problems in a dentist's office could be disasterous, what with all those unsuspecting people with electric drills in their mouths. And what might have happened when I flushed the toilet? Did I cause the x-ray machine to start spewing radiation on everyone in the vicinity? And if I turned out the bathroom light upon exiting, would that cause a fountain-like eruption in all the spit bowls next to the exam chairs?
I looked at the hand dryer, which by this time had stopped exhaling on my arm.
BWAHAHAHAHA! It was a motion -sensitive dryer. Apparently I had waved my elbow around in just the right place to signal the dryer to do its job.
I washed and dried my hands (finally figured out how to work that diggedy dang modern spigot), but by the time I got out of there, I was laughing so hard I nearly had to turn around and go back in to use the facilities, again.
My only niggling worry over the entire incident is that somewhere in cyberspace, someone is blogging about their recent trip to the pediatric dentist, when they saw this middle-aged woman with two-tone hair come practically falling out of the restroom, hysterical with laughter, and why can't mental health officials do something about people like that?